Wraith of the Lorca: Legend of Lyndis
by SoloWing
Summary: Not your average Fire Emblem novelization. A wandering tactician stumbles across a Lorcan plainswoman bent on revenge. Two soldiers appear that change their lives forever. The world will soon be turned upside down. Multiple pairings. Book one of three.
1. Meetings

A.N.: So, it's been done to death, but I figured that I'd try my hand on a FE7 novelization. However, this isn't going to be your average novelization as I'm going to be taking several liberties with the story and plot, and putting several twists into them. Because, after all, how many ways are there to rehash the same old plot?

Author's Note 4/24: Sorry about the mass of unrecognizable text. FF'.net yanked my formatting even after the live preview showed it to be there. I'll go back through and replace it.

**_Begin_**

The green-haired woman went about her motions mechanically: pulling the orb-shaped red apples from the trees and dropping them into the baskets at her feet. Little to no thought was required for the task at hand, allowing the woman's mind to wander. While an ordinary girl might have allowed herself fantasies of her future husband and the life that they would live, this woman allowed herself no such luxury.

She knew where her thoughts would go, if she allowed them- and since she had no desire to remember those memories, she kept her thoughts in line. Soon she had succeeded in gathering enough of the red fruit to fulfill her needs. A chore that once took an entire day now took little more than a candle mark.

With a sigh, the woman indulged in a nervous habit of touching the medallion that lay 'round her neck. She then proceeded to gather her fruit and baskets, stand erect, and prepare to leave the forest.

And it was under these circumstances that fate intervened in her life. Fate was a fickle master, always drifting between helping a person and causing havoc for his amusement.. One never knew when Fate would choose to visit him, indeed some could live their entire life without encountering his hand, but those who did always found their course irrevocably changed.

In this circumstance, Fate chose to take on the form of a gray blur that swept from the skies, dove through the trees. A sharp 'snap' filled the air, and the blur shot off into the distance with the woman's medallion clasped firmly within his jaws.

A sharp cry of anger followed the gray blur as it pulled skyward and reconstituted into the form of a small wyvern that was scarcely the size of a man's forearm. A cheery warble came from the beast's throat as it circled around and began flying off in the distance.

The green-haired woman shouted after the beast again. For a brief instant, she was too stunned over the loss of her possession to wonder why a wyvern, native to the far-off country of Bern, was running off with her necklace. But that lasted scarcely a few tenths of a second before the idea presented itself to her mind (the latter half of the idea more prominently than the former) and the woman dropped her baskets and ran off after the creature.

With speed that few could match, the woman raced through the forest. Her legs were a blur of motion as she darted between trees and over roots. The forest crashed about her, but the green-haired woman paid it little mind. Her attention was fixed solely on the wyvern that floated along overhead. Even from the ground below, the woman could see the glint of sunlight flashing against her medallion.

This continued on for several moments. The woman's fattention was alternating between the wyvern overhead and the forest before her. Every once in a while, she would shout, just to let the thief know that she was still on his trail. This pattern continued on for several minutes, look to the ground, look to the sky, spot the thief, shout in anger. And then something happened to break the pattern.

The woman crashed into something solid and unmovable. The impact failed to move the object, but sent her rebounding into the ground below. The impact knocked the breath from the woman's lungs- and it took her a moment to return air to her lungs and recollect her scattered wits.

Anger descended upon the woman for she knew that her prey, the thief, would be long gone by now. With fury, she pounded the loose dirt and looked up to glare at the obstacle that had ended her forward progress. She froze as she realized that she had collided with a green-cloaked man.

The man looked down at her, his dirty brown eyes peaking out from under a mess of black hair. He took note of the triangular tribal patterns that adorned the woman's light blue robes- and then extended his hand to her.

The woman stared at the offered help as if it were a foreign object that had fallen from the heavens.

"You!" The woman snarled. "What are you doing here? Why do you just stand there? That thief is getting away!"

The raven-haired man arced an eyebrow as he sftudied the furious green-haired woman. A slight smile danced across his lips, and then quickly turned into a frown. It was apparent that the man was starting to realize just what had gone on in the past few minutes.

The newcomer looked skyward, and then thrust his left hand aloft. He extended his fore and ring fingers to the heavens, and waited.

The woman fought to keep her jaw from crashing to the ground.

The wyvern, the very creature that had stolen her medallion, slowly descended from the skies. The thieving creature grumbled in annoyance, and then lighted upon the man's shoulder.

While the man's green cloak prevented her from seeing the exact circumstances, the woman supposed that the newcomer must have had some sort of leather armor over his shoulder. Otherwise the wyvern's long claws would have gouged enough flesh from the man's shoulder to draw blood.

The man pried the medallion from the wyvern's jaws, then extended the necklace back to the woman.

"I assume that this is yours."

Without a word, the woman snatched the medallion from the man's fingers. She began turning it about in her palm, examining it for damage. A few scratches marred it's otherwise smooth surface, but mostly it was unharmed.

"You have my apologies." The man appeared to be genuinely mortified of his pet's actions. He deftly turned and used his thumb to bat the wyvern on the creature's head. The beast hissed but accepted the rebuke. "Wyverns are naturally attracted to bright objects… I've been trying to break Romeo of his thieving ways for some time now."

"Romeo?" The word had left the Sacean woman's mouth before she'd realized she'd spoken. A frown passed over her lips as she realized what she had done, but there was no helping it.

"Yes, his name is Romeo. I gave it to him after the legendary thief." The man shrugged. "Turned out to be well fitting. But alas, forgive me, I'm digressing. My name is Mark. What's yours?"

As he spoke, Mark extended his hand anew, prompting the green haired woman to realize that she was still sprawled on the ground. After briefly considering the idea of ignoring the offered help, the woman slowly accepted. The raven-haired man provided a fine counterbalance for her weight, and provided the Sacean with enough leverage to stand.

"My name is Lyn." The woman said at length. "Lyn of the Lorca."

Mark's eyes widened, and almost instantly his gaze became focusefd on the wyvern clinging to his shoulder.

"Ha-HA! Did you hear that, Romeo! I told you I wasn't lost, but did you dare to believe me? Let this be a lesson to you- trust me in the future."

His outburst complete, the raven-haired man turned his attention back to the slack-jawed woman who was staring at him in disbelief. After realizing her current expression, Lyn hastily reigned in her emotions and tried to act as if strange people who dropped in out of nowhere and conducted monologues with their pet wyverns was an everyday occurrence.

Mark carried right on, as if oblivious to how strange his companion considered him to be.

"Ah, this is good. I've been searching for the Lorca for almost a month now, and some had begun to accuse me of being the conductor of a futile errand." The man paused to shoot an accusing look at Romeo. Romeo in turned hissed indifferently. "Do you know of one Chieftain Hasser? I have business with him."

At the mention of Hasser's name, Lyn's eyes hardened. A hollow edge entered the girl's voice, preventing any emotion from seeping through.

"Then it appears you have indeed wasted your time. Hasser is dead."

A surprised blink passed over the man's eyes, and then he drew sober. The merry light that had filled his face waned in favor of a grave look.

"Father Sky accept his sacrifice, and Mother Earth embrace him." The raven-haired man breathed as he held one hand before his chest.

A pang of curiosity raced through Lyn. Few outsiders knew of the Lorca death rites- for the passing ceremonies were a closely guarded secret. For someone to know of them meant that the outsider would have to have been trusted as much as a tribe member- if not moreso. Not that the Lorca were xenophobic for they were friendly enough, but more or less indifferent. They were content to live their lives and allow the rest of the world to pass them by. Few outsiders could understand this way of life, and as such never tried to become friends with the tribe.

"My apologies." Mark continued, interrupting Lyn's thoughts. "But if I may, who would I speak to now?"

For a long moment, Lyn was tempted to scoff- to put this man down and berate him for his ignorance. But she quickly quelled that desire. The woman could not hold the man accountable for knowledge that he did not possess. Further, few had offered to speak with her since the incident- so long as he was willing she had no reason to refuse.

Even so, she couldn't keep bitterness from infesting her reply.

"You could speak to no one. They are all dead. I am the only survivor."

Mark paled.

"Bethra?"

For the second time in as many minutes, Lyn was struck speechless. Not only did this strange man before her carry a Bern wyvern on his shoulder, not only was said wyvern a thief, not only did he know of the Lorcan death rites, but he also spoke the Sacean dialect. How had he come to know so much? And how long had it been since she'd heard a word in her original language?

It took the woman a minute to loosen he tongue enough to reply.

"…Vapr."

"Bandits." Mark breathed in Standard. The man quickly shook his head and then drifted back into Sacean.

_"But how? No bandit could stand against the might of the Lorca! What happened to tilt the balance of power?"_

Lyn shrugged. She had no answer to that question.

_"Andrimos."_

"Taliver." The translated, unspoken word filled the man's mind. "The Taliver Bandits eradicated the Lorca…"

Mark chose this particular moment to switch over to a language Lyn was not familiar with. But judging from the distasteful way he spat the word out, the green-haired woman had a fair idea what had just been said. It was not flattering.

His next question caught her off guard.

_"What of you?"_

_"Revenge."_

Mark nodded, he should have known. The Taliver had annihilated Lyn's tribe. In Sacean culture, when a kinsman was murdered, it fell on a surviving family member to avenge the death. By surviving the raid, Lyn was obligated to bring her tribe's murderers swiftly to justice. It would have been on her mind.

But how could one girl, scarcely more than fifteen/sixteen, overcome armored bandits? It was unthinkable.

An awkward silence descended upon the two- neither side entirely sure how to pursue this conversation. Lyn, having been alone for the past three months, did not want to lose the closest thing to a companion she had. Mark, being concerned for the girl placed directly in his path, did not just want to walk away from her.

The raven-haired man breathed a long sigh and then pondered the situation silently._ --And if I do offer to help her, her pride would refuse to acknowledge it. How on earth am I supposed to help her without coming across as condescending?--_

Lyn's words brought him out his reverie.

_"You asked about my father. Did you know him?"_

_"He was a great man. Proud. Honorable. Decisive. The model of a leader."_ It was no lie on Mark's part. The man had always like Hasser, and had no difficulty seeing the chieftain as described. _"The honor of our meeting will be felt to my children's children."_

The green-haired woman paused, obviously indecisive. But gradually she drew to a decision and decided to speak her mind.

_"I can take you to him."_

_--The grave--_ Mark realized what she was really saying.

_"Please. I must give him my thanks."_

The green-haired woman nodded, then wordlessly turned and began walking out of the forest. The raven-haired man fell into step behind the girl. Meanwhile, Romeo grew tired of waiting and took to the skies. The wyvern hissed and then vanished into the air amidst a flapping of wings.

The two walked in silence for several minutes as their path took them through the orchard and out into the plains. From there, it was a short walk to the crest of a nearby hill. There, Lyn stopped and pointed to a dusty plot of ground. It was obvious that, even to Mark's untrained eye, the ground had been disturbed. The grass had not yet regrown over the grave, but respectfully refrained from touching the sacred ground.

Mark paused before the grave, feeling like a trespasser on the sacred soil. The man shoved off the feeling and then extended one hand before his chest, vertically. His eyes closing, the raven-haired man paid his last respects.

After a solemn moment, the man opened his eyes and turned from the grave. Mark found himself staring at Lyn's back, for the Sacean woman was facing away from the grave and staring off, unseeing, at the distance.

_"Are you well?"_

The green-haired woman hesitated for a moment, then relinquished her self-control. There was no point in denying the fundamental truth of her plight. So long as this stranger was willing to listen, there was no need to hide it.

_"I have not avenged him. I am not yet worthy to look upon his grave."_

Mark frowned.

_"That will come in time. Remember their honor, courage, love… then your oath… let that carry you through."_

Lyn arced an eyebrow and looked at the raven-haired man. She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as a deep, bloated note filled the air. The sound washed over the prairie and resonated over the hills.

Instantly, Mark snapped erect and recalled Romeo. The wyvern descended from the skies and lighted upon his master's shoulder. The raven-haired man turned his attention to Lyn, who had paled.

"Bandits…" The woman spoke the word in little more than a whisper. "They're probably heading for the villages… I must go…"

Mark darted forward and managed to get his left hand about Lyn's arm. His move jerked the woman to a stop just as she began to march off. Instantly, the woman whirled about and sent him a death glare. Mercifully, Lyn was no magic-wielder otherwise her look might have incinerated Mark where he stood.

The raven-haired man knew for a fact that he was violating at least four Lorcian customs- he assumed that the actual count was probably closer to seventeen. The Lorca were a proud race and abhorred anything that might possibly stain their honor. No man would dare to even touch a female, much less manhandle one, unless he was betrothed. Even that was limited to a clasp of hand. But Mark also knew the conflict that the woman faced, and how emotion clouded the mind. He would not allow that emotion to get her killed on the battlefield.

_"Unhand me- now!"_ Lyn demanded.

Mark released his hold, but spoke quickly while he still had his partner's attention.

_"I will go with you."_

_"No."_ The green-haired woman spat the word out. _"This is my oath, my duty. Revenge is mine. They will fall by my blade, and my blade alone."_

Thankfully, Mark was quick-witted. He had known from the moment that the horn had sounded that Lyn would be against his help- it was that same Sacean pride that bound her to dispatch the bandits. The man knew just how futile it was to argue with a Sacean, especially a Sacean woman, and as such had a suitable compromise ready for her.

_"So it shall be, for I am a Tactician."_

Lyn raised an eyebrow quizzically.

_"You are, are you? That is a strange profession…"_

_"But a needed one. Let me guide your blade- "_ Mark resisted the urge to say 'so that you may live to fight again' - such a statement was tantamount to a death-wish - and instead finished with: _"to hasten the vengeance that is deserving of your enemies."_

For a long moment, the green-haired plainswoman stared at the man. Her eyes probed him for any weakness or ill intent. Finally, she decided that he was trustworthy.

"Very well." Lyn ceased to speak the Lorcian dialect and instead returned to the Standard tongue. "Let us go."

"Yes, let's." Mark replied smoothly.

The two broke into a run and effortlessly crossed the plains. Down into the valley, Lyn charged, and up the other side. Mark followed her every footstep to the top of the nearest hill. Upon cresting it, he realized that he was looking down upon two separate villages set a short distance apart. Three bandits were steadily descending upon the twin towns, and judging by their demeanor, they were not intending on visiting for a cup of tea.

Mark studied the layout of the land, taking note of the villages, the plains, the hills that framed the valley, the grove of trees, everything. Instantly his stomach dropped to the level of his knees. Mercifully, the bandit forces were few. There were limited to three half-drunken members of the brigade. That was as far as their fortune extended, for there was little else to be seen.

"Well, my Master Tactician." Acid dripped from Lyn's voice. "What advice do you have for me?"

The man couldn't stop the thought from entering his head. _--A hair-brained scheme and half of an idea.--_

"Staying alive, for one." Mark replied quickly. "A direct charge is out of the question- they'd just circle around you and then slowly choke you to death like a noose. No, this calls for hit-and-run tactics…"

"A Sacean does not run from battle." The plainswoman announced.

"Neither do Master Tacticians. No, I have a much better plan in mind…"

* * *

The first bandit fell easily enough.

Following her tactician's advice, Lyn had circled down and around the valley. The plainswoman had managed to move undetected by following a grove of trees down and around the valley wall. There, Lyn waited in hiding until the first of the three bandits had made the mistake of drawing near to her hiding place.

The Lorcan had exploded from the trees like a savage tiger. Her blade had cut through the air and tasted flesh and bone.

The bandit dropped heavily to the ground, he would not be causing any more trouble.

Instantly, a shout went up. One of the bandits pointed his oversized axe at the Sacean woman and began storming towards her. The other bandit held back, obviously believing that his partner could handle this menace.

He would be wrong.

Lyn stood calmly, and fixed her coming attacker with a withering look. The plainswoman continued to stand over the thieves' fallen comrade. She was waiting, patient and unwavering.

The man came within striking distance and raised his mighty ax. The bandit stepped forward and drove his weapon downward in a cleaving spike that would have shattered anyone from shoulder to hip- had there been anyone to hit.

The Lorcan plainswoman had merely stepped backwards to evade the strike, and then melted back into the grove of trees. Scarcely had the bandit realized that he had missed, than was the woman gone.

Anger flooded the bandit's veins. No one defied them like this! To strike down one of their own and then flee- it was cowardice! It was a slap to his face as real as any physical blow.

The bandit charged into the forest glen, his axe carving through the air wildly. The thief's blade whistled and cut through air and foliage, clearing a path for it's enraged owner. The man continued onward, cutting down anything that stood in his path.

Abruptly, the axe fell still, and then clattered to the ground from it's owner's lifeless hands. The bandit stared down, his eyes unseeing, at the wound protruding from his chest. Then he collapsed in a heap.

Lyn lowered her weapon and shook her head. Mark had been right. The raven-haired man had predicted that the bandit would charge into the glen blindly, and as such set himself up for ambush. All she had had to do was enter the trees and immediately circle to her left. The oaf had marched right by her, and set himself up for his own demise.

The plainswoman drew a breath of relief, and then steeled herself for the coming battle. Those other two that she had dispatched were nothing more than hired muscle. They were little threat to anyone. No, the real threat behind the bandits lay with their leader- the man who had hung back and allowed his partners to die. His life had to be taken at her hand.

And at that moment, Lyn decided not to follow through with the strategy. Mark had suggested another ambush- he had told her to emerge from the bushes and to race for the village. Once there, she could easily hide behind the city's retaining wall and strike when the time was right. But no. She had won two battles this way… The Lorcan had destroyed the lesser threat using these tactics and removed two-thirds of the bandit forces, there was little to fear by abandoning them now.

With a scream, Lyn emerged from the forest. Thoughts of her dead tribe, relatives, and friends filled her mind pushing her to avenge their deaths. The Lorcan woman set her sights on the large man, the final bandit, and steeled herself for the coming exchange of blows.

As it turned out, the bandit struck first. The man raised his axe and whisked it through the air in a broad swipe. The Sacean was forced to abort her charge and stop short, lest she run straight into the attack. The bandit hollered an oath at her and then drove his blade around in another wide swipe.

Again, the plainswoman darted backwards to avoid a bitter end. Her reaction was slower this time, allowing her opponent to draw a line of red across her arm. The woman bit her lip and tried not to cry out.

Her attacker was not done yet, the thief turned his horizontal swipe into momentum for a vertical one. The huge man brought his weapon down in an effort to split the woman's head open.

Lyn's blade snapped up and deflected the blow. The Sacean allowed the axe to glance off of her sword, redirecting it's path just enough to spare her from injury. The plainswoman then danced to the side, putting her in the perfect position to counterattack.

Lyn swept in like the wind and drove her blade at the bandit's chest. The leader was no fool, he merely sidestepped, avoiding the impalement altogether. Lyn realized immediately that she'd overreached herself- all her opponent had to do was bring his axe around before she could correct her balance… and she'd be dead.

Fate intervened once again.

A gray mass fell from the sky and slammed into the bandit's face. Taken completely by surprise, the bandit howled in pained fury as the gray streak resolved itself into the form of the wyvern Romeo. The small, winged serpent was hissing furiously, clawing and biting at the man's face.

The surprise attack drove all thought from the bandit's mind, sparing Lyn's life.

The Sacean blinked in surprise, then regained her wits just in time to dart forward and drive her blade into her intended target.

The bandit screamed something about being the undefeatable Batta the Beast… then collapsed into a lifeless heap on the ground.

Romeo released his hold on the deceased man's face, looked up at the plainswoman and warbled mournfully. The wyvern then took flight and darted away into the skies.

At that moment, Lyn realized just how close she had come to death. Had not Romeo lent her his aid, then Batta would have ended her life then and there. Her vow would have left unfulfilled, and the Lorca would go unavenged.

A soft footfall broke into the plainswoman's thoughts. Instantly, Lyn spun around and brought her iron blade up in preparation to strike. Abruptly, she called off her assault when she found herself staring straight into Mark's face.

"You won." Mark noted in Standard. The tactician's eyes swept over the woman, and stopped as they spotted the bleeding gash on Lyn's arm.

Lyn noted his gaze, and slipped back into Sacean.

_"It's nothing… barely a scratch."_

The raven-haired man gazed at the Sacean woman for a long moment as if weighing the truth of that statement. Eventually, the man shook his head. Mark reached produced a vulnery, a medical concoction, from the folds of his robe, then a long scrap of cloth.

"Then allow me treat it." The tactician said simply.

Lyn's first reaction was to tell the man off- to remark that she was perfectly capable of handling herself. She was stopped, however, by the knowledge that had not Mark and Romeo intervened, she would be dead. It was plain to see that the tactician knew what he was doing, and as such could be trusted.

Mark stepped forward and uncorked the bottle containing the precious medicine. With practiced care, the raven-haired man smeared the slimy paste across the cloth. Then, judging that the correct amount had been retrieved, the man replaced the stopper of the vulnery.

The Sacean plainswoman winced as the vulnery came into contact with her splintered skin. The Tactician was gentle but firm, and insisted on making sure that the slime coated every aspect of the wound. Once he was satisfied with his cleansing job, the man wrapped the bandana around the injured limb and knotted it firmly in place.

"You did well." Mark commented.

Lyn was not so sure.

* * *

Music filled the air.

Romeo ignored it as he continued to gnaw at a steak.

Mark sat on the ground; his back resting against a fallen log, and a harmonica in hand. The man was warbling a slow tune from the pipe. The mournful song was keeping time with the stew that was simmering on the fire, and the raven-haired man was careful to keep an eye on the concoction at all times.

A rustling came from somewhere behind the man, indicating that Lyn had emerged from her tent. The tactician paid it little attention as he continued to fill the air with his ode.

Eventually, the Sacean woman appeared on the edges of his vision. The plainswoman continued to walk past Mark, and then sank to the ground on the other side of the fire. Her focus was bouncing back and forth between the stew and the man who had prepared it. It was plain to see that there was something on her mind.

Mark ceased his tune in mid-note, and returned his instrument to one of his cloak's many pockets.

Lyn considered her words for a few minutes, strengthened her resolve and then decided to enter the conversation. She chose to speak in standard.

"Mark, you mentioned earlier that you were coming to speak to Hasser, my father… Can you tell me why?"

The tactician nodded slowly. He then proceeded to check the meal to be sure it was cooking correctly. After deciding that the soupy concoction would be safe for a few more minutes, Mark framed his reply.

"I came to visit him." The man explained. "Years ago, I was barely but a child, when something happened in Ostia. Great turmoil swept over the land and killed our mother and my sister. It forced our father to flee. I had little choice but to flee with him. We stayed with the Lorca for many months, and during that time they taught me much. I strove to learn all that we could."

Mark paused to remove the stew from the fire lest it overcook. The raven-haired man then proceeded to withdraw two plates and forks from his moderate pack of supplies. After serving each plate with a large helping of the meaty soup, the man handed one plate to Lyn- who slowly took it- and then renewed his tale as he sat on the ground.

"I don't believe we ever spent much time together, although I do remember seeing a child I believe to be you on more than one occasion. Anyway, we left the tribe… oh… maybe a year or two later, for I remember the celebration of two Equinoxes, and moved onward. We traveled from Bern to Biron and back again, begging and borrowing our way across the land. It was through those travels that I acquired my… uh… expanse of languages.

"But my father was growing old before his time, and as such he decided that I was not to continue this life. He enrolled me in some school in Ilia, and I learned tactics from there. My father died the following year, and wanderlust took hold. I decided to drift back towards Sacea to see if I could spend some time among the Lorca again… only to discover… how things are now."

Lyn picked at the soupy meat as she digested this information. Her appetite was virtually non-existent at the moment. Questions pulled and tugged at her mind, and she needed them to be answered.

"Have you ever… killed someone?"

Mark had been expecting the question. The tactician reached under his robes, and this time withdrew a thick book with a dark cover and heavy binding. The man dropped it open, looked at the pages, and then recited a line of thick gutturals.

The light seemed to vanish from the tactician's open, right palm, to be replaced with an orb of solid… shadow. The tactician snapped his palm shut, and the darkness ran from out between the man's fingers before dissipating back into it's former state.

Lyn's plate crashed to the floor as she scrambled backwards, fear igniting her face. The Sacean stared unbelieving at the man before her, who suddenly appeared much more sinister and threatening.

"Wh- what deviltry is that?" The Lorcan demanded.

"I have killed." Mark said slowly. "I am a magic user, of the Elder school. I can harness the darkness of the land to do my bidding… and I have been forced to use it as a weapon."

The plainswoman's heartbeat began to slow, and her nerves began to calm. She looked up at the tactician's face, and beheld a flicker of pain there.

"It was not something that I enjoyed, and I would never take a life unless I or those I love were threatened. But I have killed. Killing is a dangerous business, Lyn, for the grief and knowledge of what you have done never leaves you, no matter how much you rationalize it and tell yourself that you had no choice. Some men and women kill so much that they are forced to become shadows of their former selves, to erect a wall so great around their hearts that they become unable to feel anything in an effort to escape that guilt. Anyone can reach that point where they do not feel, and when they do, they think nothing of killing anymore." The tactician explained.

"I suppose that it is fitting, then, that the parallels between killing and the Elder arts are there. Elder magic is powerful, but dangerous. Many have been perverted by the power that it offers, but it's true potential can only be unlocked by the restraint to use it wisely."

Pain and misunderstanding filled Lyn's face. The Lorcan was looking to her future, and she wasn't liking what she was seeing.

"Is… is that my fate?"

"It may be. Vengeance blackens the soul." Mark speared a potato that was resting on his plate and swirled it around in his stew's rapidly cooling gravy. "But it does not have to be. Mother Earth and Father Sky always give their children a choice. You may have to avenge your clan, but so long as your strike out for justice, not revenge, and remember that killing a person means robbing them of life, you will not become as bloodthirsty as those you seek."

The plainswoman stared past her untouched plate and into the fiery flames. Her thoughts were not in the immediate vicinity nor were they in the present, they were staring into her future. A future that was uncertain, and a future that could warp her forever. The amount of blood she would be forced to spill was staggering, and she did not know if she could deaden herself to the sensation. But her tribe was demanding justice, and revenge burned in her blood. It was only her recent acts that had caused her to doubt her course.

A low gurgling warble reached the plainswoman's ears. Lyn looked down to discover Romeo looking sorrowful and nuzzling at her wrist.

"He likes you." Mark noted.

"I'm sure that he merely desires my food…or my medallion." As much as she tried, Lyn couldn't get her heart into the joke she had just made.

"If that was the case he would have taken it without asking." The tactician smiled "But he feels your pain and desires to share it. Romeo may be a fickle wyvern, but he does care."

"So I see…"

The plainswoman allowed herself a bite of the now-cold meat and chewed against it as her mind worked furiously. She was rapidly losing her nerve and taste for revenge, but her Sacean blood demanded that she follow through. But one thing was clear, she could not do this alone. Batta the Beast had almost killed her, indicating that she would have to grow stronger if she were to fulfill her vow.

"Mark… I ask a boon of you."

"Name it."

Lyn steeled her will, and then spoke anew.

"I can see that you have fought before, and that you know the ways of war. I… I have a long road to walk, one that I am unprepared for. I don't have the strength or the skill to avenge my clan, and I must grow stronger if I am to succeed. Would you… allow me… the honor of traveling with you. Of learning from your experience so that I may avenge my clan?"

Mark looked up at the young fifteen-year-old who was camped opposite of him, and for the first time realized how young and scared she truly was. Her tribe had been ripped from her, her friends destroyed and her parents murdered. Had he and Romeo not appeared on the morn, she would have joined them.

To leave her behind would be to condemn her to death.

"I would be honored to have your journey with me. We are but two souls left without a place in this world… who roam the lands after losing our homes… we are but wraiths…"

"Wraiths?" Lyn repeated. The word was new to her, and she did not understand it's meaning.

"The Armons believe that families are bound to the land. Should disaster or war ever force a man from his birthplace, then upon his death he is destined to roam the land as a spirit- destined to wander until he returns home so that he may find peace. We have had our homes and families ripped from us, and are to wander the land in search of our place and peace. It… is a fitting title." Mark observed solemnly. "We are the Wraiths of the Lorca."

"Wraith of the Lorca." Lyn repeated in a respectful tone.

"That we are." The tactician reiterated. The man then blinked as he came out of his reverie and turned his attention to more practical matters. "… and because of that we have a long journey ahead of us."

_**END**_

Yep, I did some major personality tweaking to Lyn and the Tactician. Of course, since the Tactician has no personality in the game, using him at all required a bit of a revamp. Lyn will grow closer to her game-self as the story progresses.


	2. Revelations

Author's Notes: I want to thank Kray Torishi, BlackHole CO, and Xoroth for their kind reviews. I'm glad that enjoyed the first chapter, and I hope that I can deliver in the later installments.

_**Begin**_

_To be honest, it wasn't a complete flie on my part. I did have some rudimentary knowledge of tactics and strategy, but to say that I was a full-fledged tactician would be an overstatement._

_Looking back, if I had known beforehand how those words would have affected our lives, the hardship and heartache it brought on, I have to wonder: would I have had the courage to utter them?_

_-- Mark, Wraith of the Lorca_

* * *

Mark crested the grassy knoll and cast a quick glance over the valley. The wide plains stared back at him. In the center of the plain lay a circle of dead grass- all that remained of Lyn's tent. The raven-haired man shifted his gaze over to check up on his companion, and found the green-haired Sacean just a step behind.

"We'll need to purchase supplies before we go too far. There's just enough in my pack for a day or two, since I, uh…" The man was forced to hesitate as he tried to come up with a more diplomatic was of saying 'expected to be with the Lorca now'. Instead he finished with: "… expected to be able to resupply by now."

"I understand. " Lyn nodded. "I assume, then, that a trip to Bulgar would be in order?"

"Yes, we can restock and go from there."

The raven-haired man called Romeo down from the skies; he began walking down the hills as the wyvern clung to his shoulder. To say that Mark's mind was busy was an understatement. He had expected to be working the fields at this point, not to be sojourning with the only Lorcan survivor. All of the problems that he'd ever faced looked bigger now. Food, money and shelter had always been difficult to come by in his life- now Mark had another member of his party to look out for.

Did Lyn even realize how unstable her life was about to become?

Well, there was little to no use thinking about that at this point. The tactician swallowed his nervousness so that words could come from his throat.

"Well… we'll need some form of a plan." Mark noted as the valley passed by under their feet.

"Where you lead, I am content to follow." Lyn commented. "I have joined you to increase my skill with the blade and to grow stronger. So long as I can do that, all will be well."

"True, but some places are more suited to the blade than other. Take Bern, for instance." The tactician swept his hand into the sky to indicate the east. "The Bernese are skilled Wyvern Riders who specialize in lances. Such a place is not well suited to your studies."

The green-haired woman nodded, but did not verbally reply.

Mark noted this and moved on.

"Well, Romeo, what do you say?"

The creature warbled and then bobbed his head uncertainly.

"You too, eh? Well… let me see…"

As his footsteps continued to take him down the path, Mark felt compelled to rub his chin in thought. The tactician began probing his memories. He was searching for something, anything, that might prove useful in their venture. At length, after the two had left the plains behind and entered a cobblestone road, a glimmer of inspiration struck the man.

"Of course, that's it!" Mark brought his right palm down into his left hand. A savage grin swept over the raven-haired man's face, indicating his pleasure. "Vert!"

"Vert? What is that?" The Sacean plainswoman queried.

"It's a village on the outskirts of the Nabata Desert- mercifully it's not too far inside that wasteland otherwise we'd never live to see it. Anyway, there's an old Swordsmaster who lives around there and pretends to be a hermit. 'Pretends' being the key word; he couldn't live alone if his life depended on it... Sorry, I'm digressing again. I'm sure he'd be glad to help you learn the blade, and how to use it."

"Really? Then let us make haste for Vert…" Lyn paused for a moment and then continued her train of thought. "Would Vert happen to be on the path of the Sacred Shrine? I… would like to abide by the customs…"

The tactician frowned and then tried to incorporate this new knowledge into his plans. The raven-haired man found himself at a loss for details and was forced to produce a map from his pack. As the two continued to walk, Mark plotted out their course and noted with some relief that the temple was within range of a quick side-trip along the path of their greater destination.

"Ah… it would appear so. Fortune favors you."

The raven-haired man folded the map and returned it to it's side pocket. He then continued speaking.

"You do have my apologies, however. I should have remembered about the Sacred Sword and planned accordingly… I am… not entirely used to traveling with others."

"Think nothing of it. At least you respect the customs, most would assume them to be too savage to consider."

Mark shrugged and together the two continued their journey.

* * *

Bulgar was a contradiction. The city existed in the middle of nowhere, but operated a thriving trade that rivaled all but the largest of capitals. The city was known as 'the crossroads of Sacea', and the name was well fitting, for many a traveler welcomed the relief and supplies that Bulgar could offer them. It was due to this fact that Bulgar experienced it's prosperous economy.

The city was always bustling and rarely, if ever, ceased it's activity. Peddlers and shopkeepers perpetually lined the streets and cried out for the attention of passersby. It was not at all uncommon for an entrepreneur to purchase some item from a shopkeeper, then turn about and try to sell the item for twice the price. Bartering and clamor rang out continually as customers tried to find the falsity in the man and the fake in the product.

It was in this setting that Fate, the fickle master that it was, decided to intervene within Lyn's life again.

"I don't expect to have much need for dried meat. Our gold would probably be better spent on other needs." Mark explained as he led Lyn through the bustling streets of Bulgar.

"If you'll forgive my question… why is that?" Lyn inquired.

The raven-haired man paused in mid-stride. He stopped to explain the situation in more detail before they actually began the process of bartering. Negotiating and teaching were two things that did not mix well.

"I don't really have a solid answer for that." The tactician shrugged slowly. "I've just found that I've never had trouble living off the land; water and game has always been plentiful enough this time of year- it won't be until winter hits that meat will be hard to come by. Since we can find meat easily enough, I'd rather focus our attention to other items that are necessary.

"My foremost concern would be weapons, medicines, bedding and clothing. We'll need some new bedrolls for our journey, some heavy cloaks for the Nabata area- the sandstorms there are horrible, good cloaks will keep the worst at bay and I'd rather buy them here where they are cheaper instead of in Nabata where they're more expensive-, and medicines a-plenty. You never know what we'll run into out there. All we need is for a scorpion's poison to find it's way into your veins and your journey will end before it begins."

"And weapons in case we run into bandits." Lyn's face darkened at the thought.

_--Leave it to Lyn to think of it that way.--_ Mark allowed the thought to enter his mind. Aloud he said: "Or for hunting game. Alright, so, now that we know what we're here for, let's see what we can find."

The two resumed their journey through the city streets.

_--The sad fact is, she may get her wish sooner rather than later.-- _The tactician thought to himself. _--I think I can stretch my funds enough to get us to the next town, but we may have to pick up some mercenary work soon in order make ends meet.--_

The two companions worked their way through the bustling streets and past the shopkeepers that were shouting for attention. The trinkets and knickknacks that most vendors offered held little appeal to the travelers- they were concerned with more essential needs.

Mark led the way around a street corner, and paused to scan the alleyway before him. The raven-haired man's eyes lit up as he recognized a familiar face in the throng that pressed 'round them. With a quick wave, indicating that Lyn was to follow, the tactician plunged into the throng.

"Merlinus!" The man's voice rose into the air. "Hey, Merlinus!"

A caped man who boasted thick mustaches and an air of falsified nobility spun 'round at the mention of his name. The man's eyes squinted against the harsh sunlight. After a moment, the aging merchant found himself face to face with an old friend.

"Mark! Ha-HA! Well met, Mark!" The merchant cast his arms wide in greeting.

"Merlinus, you old goat, how are you? It's been many a year since I've seen you last." The tactician permitted himself a smile.

"Fair and poor." Merlinus admitted. "Fortune favors me with good health, but precious little else. My ventures to increase my coffers or gain the attention of the nobles have faired with little success. Ah, wait? What have we here?"

Abruptly, the raven-haired man sobered as he realized that his friend was indicating his other companion. Once again he'd forgotten that he wasn't traveling alone, and had neglected his young charge.

"Ah, Merlinus, this is my traveling companion, Lyn of the Lorca." The tactican stepped aside so that he could begin a round of introductions. "Lyn this is Merlinus, a companion of mine from the old country."

"You've such stunning beauty, Elimine must have smiled upon you!" The merchant extended a hand to Lyn as a warm smile appeared on his face. "Well met, Lyn."

"Merlinus." The Sacean acknowledged the greeting, but passed by the flattery. "I'm sure that Fate will reward you soon."

"One should hope, one should hope." The mustached man cackled. Slowly, Merlinus drew serious and turned his attention to more important matters. "So, my young friends, what brings you to Bulgar? I would assume that you're traveling somewhere, for the only other reason people arrive is to sell wares- and I should hope I would not have you for a competitor!"

Mark laughed, and was pleased to note that Lyn had permitted herself a small smile. That was a good sign.

"Hardly. Lyn and I are setting off for Nabata… we came to purchase supplies for the journey."

Merlinus turned this idea over in his mind. Try as he might, the merchant was unable to make sense of it.

"Nabata? That is a strange local to vacation at. But, no matter, if you are in need of supplies, then I believe that I can oblige. I have many such items at my shop-"

"-for a reduced price." Mark slipped the statement in quickly, much to his friend's slight chagrin.

"Of course, there is nothing that Merlinus can't gain cheaply!"

"Well, then, Merlinus, what do you think you can do about these supplies here…"

* * *

The blond-haired man ran from the tavern amidst a shower of random, if blunt, objects. While his green, polished armor protected the majority of the cavalier from the impact of the projectiles, the man thought it to be best if he escaped before more lethal measures were employed against him. Like a scolded dog, the cavalier hurried away from the establishment, and sought refuge amongst the city streets.

Upon judging that enough distance had been put between himself and the angry party, the cavalier slowed his run to a moderate pace and waxed philosophical.

"Ah, what a pity! For a love so pure as ours to be denied by her employer! I must try to carry on." A lazy grin passed over the man's lips as he continued to walk. "And not to think of the happiness with which I have been denied."

That reflection, for a fact, lasted scarcely five minutes before another potential love had caught the cavalier's eye. The blond in green armor paused alongside a row of stalls and noted, with some small measure of satisfaction, that one of them was occupied by a rather striking redhead of the female variety.

The cavalier paused to straighten his armor and check the dark bandana that circled his head, and then struck out for the shop. The blond man ambled over to the small stall, dropped one forearm on the shop's wooden counter and then leaned against it like a giddy schoolboy.

Upon finishing a transaction with another customer, the red-haired woman turned and discovered herself to be staring eyeball-to-eyeball with a rather impulsive knight.

After taking a step back to create some breathing room, the shopkeeper greeted the new arrival.

"Well, hello, my good sir. My name is Anna, a buyer and seller of goods, dare I ask if I can interest you in any thing?"

The look that passed over the knight's face indicated that he was interested in a good deal many things.

"Anna, such a charming and quaint name." The cavalier mused aloud. "Such a title must have been given by Elimine herself to your parents at birth… lovely… Ah, but my name is Sain, Sain of Caelin, I wonder if I might ask your advice on a… personal matter?"

Upon hearing those words, the shopkeeper immediately sobered. Something about the tone of the man's voice caused her to put her mental guard up. Anna turned and eyed the blond man questioningly.

"I will try to be of service, good sir."

"I hope so." The words were gone before Sain had even realized they were his. The romantic in green armor chuckled, and then continued on with his train of thought. "Ah, you see a calendar mark is fast approaching, a date which is very dear to us. I would like to present my… my girl… with a small, fashionable gift. I'm looking for something soft and airy, but complimentary to the figure, if you get my meaning."

Anna's right eyebrow raised, giving a visual indicator to her thoughts. The red-haired woman was wondering just who, given the cavalier's present attitude, would be self-sacrificing enough to allow herself to be thought of as the "man's girl". Nevertheless, the shopkeeper thrust the thought aside and turned her attention to trying to close the sale. Anna withdrew to a rack of clothing, and began leafing through the items in search of an article that would adhere to the offered request.

After a few minutes, the red-haired woman retrieved a modest, powder-blue dress that would have to suffice. Anna was not in the habit to stock items that were 'complimentary to the figure' as her customer had put it.

"I believe this will do." Anna remarked as she held the dress up for Sain to admire. The shopkeeper paused to dredge up various facts about the clothing from her mind, and then proceeded to verbalize them. "I believe that this style originated from, and is quite popular with, the Etrurian nobles. You can see why, it is much less restrictive than the usual garment, but is still classy enough to serve for social functions."

"Ah, quite, quite I do believe that that is quite perfect!" Sain proclaimed with an undo amount of bravado. "Now, then, would you do me the honor of allowing me the opportunity to see a fair maiden such as yourself in it? That would indeed be a calendar mark to remember!"

A gleam filled Anna's eyes. The shopkeeper nodded slowly.

"Indeed, fair knight, fate may well see fit to allow it tonight… But… this is a marketable good, and cannot be worn so long as it remains in my stock."

With that, Sain uttered a loud laugh and brought his fist down onto the counter with a loud 'smack'. The cavalier uncurled his fingers, allowing gold coin to spill across the wooden surface.

"Fret now, for that should more than cover the cost! Something as trivial as that should never keep lovers apart!"

The red-haired woman hastily swept the coin up and counted out change. The shopkeeper then proceeded to deposit both the change and the dress upon the counter. A soft smile traced over the woman's lips.

"Indeed. I hope that your dream becomes a reality. Good day, good sir."

"Quite righ- wait, what? I beg your pardon?" The blond cavalier performed an uncharacteristic double-take.

"I merely wished you good fortune in fulfilling your desire to see some fair maiden clothed in that garment." Anna explained slowly, as if lecturing an ignorant child. "That is all."

Sain faltered, and scrambled to say something of substance.

"I- that is, were not… you said-?"

"I said that Fate may see fit to grant your desire tonight. I did not say that I would be a part of it's plan." Anna's grin became broader. "I beg your understanding, but I belong to another."

Sain had the distinct feeling that he had just walked off a cliff.

Nevertheless, his cheerful nature quickly reasserted itself. The blond man in armor laughed in good nature over his blunder, then turned 'round and set off down the nearest street. Scarcely had the man gone a few yards than did his eye chance upon another female that struck his fancy.

The knight deftly folded the dress he had been tricked into purchasing into a more compact bundle. Then, after donning his trademark lazy grin, the armored cavalier purposely strode up to the present object of his affection.

"Fortune favors me!" Sain announced grandly to his target's back. "Oh, every man should be have the honor of being struck by your stunning beauty! Please, oh, fair maiden, I ask thee fa boon. Pray tell grant me your name- or better yet- your company!"

After the green-haired woman had recovered from the fright the shout had imposed upon her (and finished berating herself for allowing her guard to drop), the maiden in question turned to lay eyes upon the man who had dared to address her. Upon landing on the green-clad cavalier, a fire appeared in the woman's eyes, a fire that went wholly unnoticed by Sain.

"Avast! Please forgive my manners!" Sain proceeded to resume his exposition. "I should have introduced myself first! I am Sain, a fiery knight of Caelin!"

The woman's eyes hardened as she made her reply.

"I have no interest in you, please be on your way."

"Would you shatter a man's heart so! I have befen struck by Cupid's arrow of love! To deny myself your company and beauty would slay be as surely as if a sword had struck my heart!"

"That can be arragned. I ask you anew, leave me in peace." The green-haired woman reiterated.

Exasperated, and determined not to lose yet another prize, Sain committed the largest trespass a Sacean suitor could make. The cavalier snatched the woman's hand within his own and tried to bring it to his lips.

"Then at least allow me the pleasure of-"

Sain's next knightly monologue was abruptly halted as he found the wrong end of a blade passed perilously close to his neck. The knight began to swallow in nervousness as he realized his predicament, then noted how uncomfortably close the sharp iron was to Adam's apple and thought better of the idea.

"I asked you to leave me be, now I shall make you." The Sacean hissed in anger.

The blond cavalier could not help himself.

"Ah, you're even lovely when you're cruel!" The knight gasped.

Had Sain been more observant, the green armored youth would have noted that there was another member of the scene that was playing itself out. A black-haired man, who sported a small wyvern upon one shoulder, was standing just behind the girl with green-tresses. The man was observing the situation with no attempt to keep his mirth in check; but upon realizing the knight's dire situation, the aforementioned male decided to intervene.

Sain watched helplessly as the raven-haired male spoke in some strange language.

"Ethra bel on sunda- Ve magon se onda fiendermos."

Amazingly, the green-haired woman took her eyes off of her unwanted suitor and flicked them over to rest on the other man.

"Cinda."

"Foospa. Sono oth wi tanden wes. Noto athra hunes wendav."

"Gathra."

The woman withdrew her blade, cast one last look at the offending party, and then turned to march off. Sain stepped forward to follow the woman, but was cut off by her companion.

"I wouldn't do that." The raven-haired man grinned savagely. "Not if you want to keep breathing. You were lucky enough to touch Lyn and survive once, but mark my words, _ena gowet_, no man is fortunate enough to do so twice."

"Ah, but I must apologize for my wretched behavior!" The cavalier protested. "My knightly honor demands it!"

"I'll be sure to pass that along for you. But you, _ena gowet_, should be sure to get as far away from here as you can. If she ever sees you again, I won't be held responsible for your blood."

Sain considered this point for a moment, and then nodded slowly. As much as he loved to chase a beautiful girl, he was forced to admit that he enjoyed breathing much more.

"Very well, I'll submit to your wisdom." The green-clad knight bowed low.

A stray thought passed through the man's mind as he turned to walk away. The cavalier paused and decided to give voice to it.

"Out of curiosity, what's a… 'een-ah gohw-wick'?"

A grin passed over the raven-haired youth's face.

"You'd do better to ask an Ilian that question."

With that, the wyvern-sporting man spun on his heel and vanished into the busy city streets.

* * *

"Well, Romeo, that in and of itself was worth the trip to Bulgar. Poor, Sain, I honestly thought the man had bought the farm there for a minute…

"Though, I have to admit, I'd wondered how Lyn would react to a flirt, now I know." Mark noted lazily.

Romeo, of course, made no real reply. The wyvern was more than happy enough to continue attacking his evening rations.

As nightfall had begun to paint its murky tones over the twilight sky, the tactician had taken up his customary place by the side of a rousing fire. A large rock sufficed for a back-rest, and a thick book was balanced precariously on one of the man's knees. A scrap of charcoal sufficed for his writing utensil. Mark had been keeping a journal of his activities for as long as he could remember, and every night he updated the book without fail.

Mark struck a sigh, and then continued with his one-sided conversation.

"I don't know what to think about her, Romeo…" Before continuing, the man realized that he wasn't in the best of positions as anyone could understand his speech. Since he was straying into personal waters the tactician opted to change languages once again. Confident that his words wouldn't be understood, Mark continued. _"I see scraps of kindness and goodness in her- but it's been poisoned by revenge._"

"I think that Lyn fears bloodlust, and is afraid that filling her oath would lead her down that path… but she's determined to walk it nonetheless. I desperately hope that I can pull her back from that abyss, but I don't know if it's possible or not…

Romeo failed to deliver any words of wisdom on the subject. The wyvern suppressed a small belch and continued devouring his meal.

"If only our lives were as simple as yours." Mark noted in Standard. "Then it would indeed be a blessing."

The sounds of crunching leaves reached the raven-haired man's ears. This told him that Lyn had returned from her walk. The tactician closed his journal, and then turned to the Sacean woman.

"Welcome back." Mark waved a hand in greeting.

Lyn made no immediate reply. In a repeat of their previous night, the plainswoman crossed to the opposite side of the campfire and sat down heavily. The green-haired woman stared into the flames, and then spoke her mind. Her somber tone immediately informed her companion that it was to be a deep conversation.

"Mark, what I did back there… do you… could I have really killed him?"

The raven-haired man paused to consider the question. During the ensuing silence, Romeo digested the last of his rations and took to the skies. Mark allowed his gaze to follow the wyvern as he framed an answer to the question.

"I painted you in that light to prevent Sain from continuing his pursuits. I did not entirely mean the words that I spoke… But I cannot answer your question, only you can do that."

"What… how do you mean?" A puzzled expression passed over Lyn's face.

"I am not you, Lyn. I can guess at what you would have done, but I cannot know for sure. Do I believe that you would have killed Sain? No. Most certainly not. Wounded him, maybe, but not killed." Mark's eyes drifted down from the heavens and settled upon his traveling companion. "Only you know what you would have done for sure. What do you think?"

The green-haired plainswoman continued to stare into the fire as she spoke her piece.

"I… I am not sure. When he accosted me… I… I went back to the night that my clan was destroyed. All I could see was the Taliver bandits grabbing my friends and relatives, preventing their escape as they unloaded obscenities and… performing unspeakable acts. I… I was afraid that Sain… All I could think of was the Taliver… I saw not Sain… but the Taliver…"

"That is… understandable." Compassion filled Mark's voice. "But you must realize that not everyone is a Taliver. I do not think Sain to have been of that nature. He is a fool, an ena gowet if there ever was one, but I feel that his pursuits are strictly verbal in nature. There are many such as Sain in the world; not all of them mean to do others harm."

Lyn gave no visual sign of having heard those words, but even so, the tactician could see their effect. The plainswoman turned the point over in her mind. It made a degree of sense. Before the Taliver, Lyn had always seen others in a positive light- but now her past and suspicions tended to cast everyone as a potential assassin.

"But how do I apply this?" Lyn spoke anew. "How will I overcome this fear? I do not wish to threaten every man that… tries to court me… but I do not yet know how I will react to them."

A slight grin passed over the raven-haired man's face. For once, he was fielding an easy question.

"Time and friendship. Time is a healer of wounds. As time passes, the wounds will close and you will find yourself able to believe in others again. Friends will also help. Interacting with others who do care for you will allow you to trust again. Tell me something, Lyn, do you trust me?"

Once again, Lyn fell silent. Her pensive quietness may or may not have lasted; it's natural end was promptly scuttled when Fate chose this moment to complete it's intervention in the Sacean's life.

Romeo fell from the skies, and screeched out a warning as he descended upon his master's shoulder. Mark shot a concerned look at his wyvern. The dragon had been taught to respond different ways to different circumstances. Mark knew well what that signal meant.

"Someone's coming." The tactician noted as he scrambled to his feet. "They're armed."

Lyn was standing, blade in hand, within the second.

The heavy clod-clomp of a horse's hooves reached the tactician and plainswoman's ears, alerting them to the arrival of a single soldier. A cavalier sporting red armor slowly road into the clearing. The knight glanced about, realizing that Mark and Lyn were the only two occupants of the campsite, and then spoke in a loud, clear voice.

"Hold! I mean peace!"

To punctuate his words, the cavalier removed his spear and sword from his mount's saddle and tossed them to the ground.

The knight's eyes widened significantly as a dome of shadow hazed over the two weapons.

Mark allowed a smile as he closed his Flux tome. The barrier he had just put in place would prevent anyone from touching the weapons, or so the formula for a magical barrier boasted. If the cavalier was up to no good, he was now permanently defenseless.

Lyn cast her gaze from the cavalier to the tactician and realized what had just happened. Not to be outdone, the woman stepped forward so that she was standing before the raven-haired man with her sword raised defensively. The green-haired Sacean took a breath, and then addressed the newcomer.

"Speak, sir knight, and state your business."

However the cavalier had expected the meeting to go, it had not been like this.

"Y-yes… My name is Kent… I'm a Cavalier in the service of Caelin's Marquess. For some time now, my companion and I have been searching the plains..."

The Sacean's eyebrow raised questioning.

"… for the Marquess Hausen's daughter, one Lady Madelyn." Kent noted, with some satisfaction, that an audible gasp had just left the sword-wielding girl's throat. It appeared that his hunch was correct. "Many years ago, the Marquess' daughter eloped with a Sacean nomad. The Marquess was furious and vowed to retrieve his daughter and disannul the marriage.

"His plan never came to be, for Lady Madelyn and her suitor had vanished into the winds. Many years passed, but eventually Lady Madelyn sent word to the Marquess that she had born a daughter."

A tremble began to work its way over Lyn. Try as she might, the plainswoman found herself unable to stay still. Her mother… her father… could she really… could this be?

"Marquess Hausen has grown old over the years, and realized the folly of his actions. He wanted nothing less than to reunite with his estranged daughter, apologize to Chief Massert and get to know his grandaughter. Sain and I were dispatched to find his family and escort them back to the castle.

"Sain encountered you earlier, but failed to make the connection at the time. The… he was 'looking' for one called 'Lyndis' and did not associate your name with hers. I beg your forgiveness for his intolerable behavior, and have reprimanded him severely for it. However, he did mention meeting you to me, and so I have come to set things aright."

Mark and Lyn were both stunned. Neither was able to fully grasp the whole truth that had just been revealed to them. Each was struggling with their own take on the subject, for Mark was having difficulty placing Lyn as a noble, while Lyn was struggling to accept the fact that she had a grandfather.

At length, Lyn managed to put one of her thoughts into a form of words.

"But… how do you know that I… surely this could be a mistake?"

Kent shook his head.

"No, I am certain. I have studied the portraits of Lady Madelyn at length, and can safely say that your resemblance is great. Further, that medallion that you wear bears the Marquess' seal."

"The… medallion?" The Sacean plainswoman took hold of the trinket and lifted it so that she could study the necklace. True to Kent's words, a coat of arms decorated the golden surface. Lyn was forced to wonder why she had never paid them much mind before.

"The Marquess Hausen described a medallion such as that to me in great length. He gave it to the Lady Madelyn as a present at a young age."

Lyn turned away from the cavalier, for her thoughts were racing at a frantic pace. She had believed herself to be alone and forgotten for so long that the mere thought of having a living grandfather was enough to floor her. The implications and consequences of such a fact hit the woman squarely. The Sacean was unsure with how to cope with the sudden revelation.

Mark, however, decided to deal with matters in the present. The tactician waved a hand, allowing his shadowy barrier to dissolve. Kent posed no threat to them.

"My… grandfather… I… I must go to him." The green-haired woman spoke slowly, as if afraid to commit to the idea. Suppose this were to vanish, and become nothing more than a dream? "We have been apart… for far too long… I must go to him at once."

Kent bowed and nodded.

"That was our aim- my Lady Lyndis." The red-armored cavalier explained. "We are at your service, you have but to give the word and we would obey."

"What? But… but I…" Lyn's protest was cut short by Kent's intervention.

"You are the Marquess Hausen's granddaughter. Sain and I have pledged ourselves to his service- and by extension yours. Do not hesitate, my Lady Lyndis, for it is our honor to serve."

Since she was unsure of how to react to this news, Lyn decided to deal with a more manageable problem. The Sacean turned to her companion, and offered a question.

"Mark, I… I don't know what to say. This, this story changes everything… I will no longer be able to journey with you to Nabata. And I am afraid that we may have to part ways here." A twinge of sorrow filled the woman's eyes.

A warbling cry came from Romeo's jaws- indicating that the wyvern was not happy with this pronouncement. Mark suppressed a chuckle, then sobered as he made a reply.

"Really, Lyn? If that is your desire, then I shall abide by your wishes. However, I wish to point out that we were traveling to Nabata more for your sake than mine. I have no need to revisit the desert regions of Elibe. If you will allow it, then I shall join your band and continue to aid you as your Master Tactician."

A strange look crossed the woman's face.

"I… have done nothing to earn your friendship, and have nothing to offer in return… But if you were truly willing to journey with me, I would be most grateful."

"Then count me among your number." The raven-haired man grinned.

A fierce gallop filled the air, drawing the attention of all present. The trio turned to the entrance to the clearing, and was startled to find the panicked form of Sain riding his mount into the clearing. The man was in a frenzy, and didn't slow until he was safely inside the camp.

"Sain!" Kent demanded an explanation. "What brings you here? I left you on watch!"

"Kent! Lyndis!" The blond-haired man shouted at the top of his lungs. "Bandits, six or seven of them! They're heading straight for the camp! They're three, four minutes away at most!"

Almost immediately, the Sacean's expression darkened. The wonder of the past few minutes vanished as the woman was reminded of her oath to bring her tribe's murderers to justice.

"Stand firm, we'll deal with them here!" The Lorcan instructed her companions.

Mark hissed under his breath and shook his head firmly.

"I beg to differ. We face two-to-one odds. While I have every confidence in the knights of Caelin, I would not take more risk than necessary. As your tactician I advise that we pull back immediately."

The green-haired Sacean shot a flook at her friend and comrade.

"You have a plan, my Master Tactician?"

"As always."

* * *

Zuga, bandit leader, marched into the clearing with his axe drawn and ready. A line of four other bandits moved with him. As one, the five thieves snaked across the clearing and descended upon the campsite. The leader's sharp brown eyes peeked out from behind his gray hair and studied the situation.

The bandits arrived on the scene of their target's campsite.

They found it empty.

A chorus of frustrated groans leapt from a random bandit's throat as he tore into the nearby tent. Upon discovering the fact that it was empty, the thick-skulled thief howled and sent his axe cleaving through the canvas.

Two other bandits cautiously poked about the fringes of the clearing, but came up with nothing. The two exchanged a shrug, and then turned back to their leader for instruction.

The first bandit emerged from the newly decimated tent, reported it's status, and then walked back towards the others. As chance would have it, the meaty man passed by the roaring fire that had been left unattended. The thief sourly noted that their prey had fled so quickly that they had left a tin-covered pot cooking over the fire.

One of the bandits turned back to their leader and reported the obvious.

"They've fled, Captain Zuga."

The bandit leader growled and shook his head in a mixture of frustrated bemusement.

"Sic." The silver-haired man muttered. "We just missed 'em. Here I was lookin' forward to th' bounty too… Bah, what am I's sayin'! They can't have gone too far."

The bandit leader whirled about and randomly pointed out two members of his brigade.

"You and you! Get out there and start scouting! Remember, we're lookin' for a green-haired savage who answers to 'Lyndis' and some black-haired freak named 'Mark'! If you find any trace of 'em, shout for attention or deal with 'em. Kill 'em both."

The two bandits unleashed a hearty shout and then vanished into the trees.

"Bah, curse our stupid luck."

Zuga proceeded to curse everything about their targets as he crossed the camp to stand next to the fire. Upon noticing the cooking-pot, which was rattling fiercely as its contents boiled, a slow smirk crept over the bandit's face. The man reached out with his axe, snagged the handle of the pepperpot with his weapon's iron edge, and lifted the container.

"Still, if they's fled, then they's won' be needin' this!" Zuga chuckled along with his other men. "Let's see if these savages' food tastes as good as their women do!"

A chorus of guffawing laughter filled the air. Encouraged by his two partner's bravado, the gray-haired thief lifted the lid of the soup-pot.

A scream filled the air.

Zuga jerked backwards as a barrage of small particles exploded into his face at near-invisible speed. The bandit leader dropped his axe and clawed at his face as pain flared through every nerve. The impact had been horrible.

Stunned by this strange turn of events, the other two bandits could do little but stare at their leader in shock.

A trio of war cries filled the air.

Kent and Sain burst from the forest, their weapons drawn and ready. The two cavaliers crossed the plains and made straight for the two lesser thugs.

The blond-haired knight brought his lance around as he targeted his opponent.

"Bringing such numbers against a girl! You're cowards, the whole lot of you!"

It was fortunate that the bandit had been bewildered when the fight had broken out. The thug had begun to come out of his stupor just as Sain reached the thief. The nameless bandit frantically tried to raise his axe and form some sort of defense when the green cavalier's lance found its mark.

Kent faired just as well. The red-haired warrior had chosen to use his sword for his battle- and it was a wise choice on his part. The other bandit recovered quickly from the ambush, and was actually able to bring his own weapon about and drive it at his attacker's horse.

The cavalier reigned his horse back, pulling the creature's two front legs into the air. His move was timed just right, for it allowed the bandit's axe to whisk harmlessly through space. The thief's swipe took his arm out wider than the bandit intended, leaving the man open to counterattack. The horse lunged forward, allowing Kent to drive his own blade into the bandit.

And in the middle of this was Lyn. The green-haired Sacean had also exited the forest, raced across the plain and targeted the bandit boss. The bandit leader was in no condition to either defend or attack with any coherence.

Zuga somehow found his blade and managed to bring it around in a crazy arc. Lyn did not even have to sidestep as the axe went wide and missed her by a healthy margin. The Lorcan then dove in with a vengeance and cut a wide wound upon her foe.

The mighty bandit leader collapsed to the ground and gasped as his life began to drain from him.

Kent and Sain reared their mounts and cast fervent gazes across the clearing. For a tense moment, the two waited to make certain that there were not more bandits lurking about in the woods. Their fears were unfounded, however. After several moments had ticked by, the two felt safe enough to drop their guard.

They had won the battle, but their tactician still had business to attend to.

Mark emerged from the forest and crossed the glen to stand beside the dying bandit leader. The tactician dropped to one knee, and bent over the fading figure.

"Speak to me, why did you attack us?" The tactician spoke slowly and clearly, willing the bandit leader to hear him.

For a long second, Zuga merely stared at the raven-haired man. A hint of defiance warred across the man's face as he fought with the desire to try to atone for some small measure of his sin, revenge his men, and to remain obstinate to the demands of those who had killed him. Twice the man opened his mouth to speak, and twice he closed it firmly.

Recalling the man's earlier orders to the scouts, and more prominently the number of fugitives that the bandits had been instructed to look for, Mark decided to gamble on a theory he held. If he was right, then he might be able to shock some confession from the bandit.

"You were told that there was only to be a lone girl and myself, weren't you? Why should you remain loyal to an employer who didn't care enough to warn you about the Lycian knights that were accompanying us? His silence doomed you to death."

The fire dimmed in Zuga's eyes. At long last, the bandit leader decided to cooperate with his interrogator.

"You're right… there was only… supposed to be… that lone… girl…"

Mark was robbed of any answers the bandit might have been about to provide, for at that moment death stole the man away. Zuga's face went slack, and the gray-haired man's head crashed to the ground.

The raven-haired tactician sighed as he then stood. A nasty feeling was forming in Mark's stomach. He couldn't not give voice to it, however. For without any real proof to back it up, there was no reason to alarm the others.

Ever the boasting knight, Sain was oblivious to this. The blond-haired man was exuberant over their victory and couldn't resist bragging about it.

"Ha-HA! Mark that was brilliant! Your plans were perfectly laid and well executed! You are every inch the Master Tactician you have been made out to be!"

When the raven-haired man didn't respond, Sain elected to keep on trying.

"But pray tell, what sort of magic was it that caused the stew to explode upon that bandit's face? I've never seen anything like it before!"

Kent spoke up to provide the needed answer. The red-haired knight had paid more attention to the battle preparations than his partner had, and was well aware of the answer. The red-clad cavalier graciously spared the tactician the embarrassment of discussing his own strategies.

"It was no magic, it was husk-wheat. Husk-wheat is similar to the Bernese popcorn, but much more volatile. The husks each contain a small amount of liquid, when heated, the liquid boils and turns to steam, but cannot escape. When boiling husk-wheat is exposed to cool air, the husks shatter and explode with great force. Mark laced the stew with husk-wheat before we withdrew from the camp."

"Ah, I see… a wise gamble on your part then. For the husk-wheat gave us a needed edge. Although it must have been fortune's smile that caused those two scouts to fall into our trap. With them removed, it was much easier for us to win the day." Sain complimented the move with gusto.

Lyn chose this opportunity to speak her mind. The green-haired Lorcan did not profess to be the most proficient in the ways of war, but even her rudimentary eye had noticed something of concern.

"Speaking of which, Sain." The woman began. "I noticed that you used a lance on the field. Have you no skill with a sword? It seems to me that the broad strikes of an axe would prove superior to the lengthy probe of a lance. Had not the bandit been stunned, I must wonder how you would have fared."

"She speaks the truth." Kent remarked gravely. "Sain, that was a foolish move on your part."

A strong blush appeared upon Sain's face. The green-clad man shrugged lazily and did his best to cover his discomfort.

"Truth be told… I felt that a lance makes me look much more heroic. After all, a knight must always look dashing, no?"

Mark unleashed a sigh as Romeo screeched in protest. Something told the tactician that this was only the first of many battles. Many more trials lay ahead of them. They would have to face much hardship before they could experience the victory of their arrival at Castle Caelin.

_--And with thinking like that, something tells me that I'm going to have a hard time keeping Sain alive long enough to see it.--_ Mark noted sourly.

_**End**_


	3. Wings

A.N.: Well, I'm going to come right out and say it, this is where I really start messing with things. I'm sure everyone is going to notice that I'm jumping right over the FE Chapter: _Sword of Spirits_ altogether and instead beginning _Band of Mercenaries_. _Sword of Spirits_ will be visited later on in this work, just not right now.

The other unspeakable crime I've committed is that there are no fighting scenes in this chapter. That's right, none. After completing the first third of this work I decided to make it a personal challenge to write a chapter that did not involve a beat-down. So... I'll go hide out in a fallout shelter now, 'k?

Kray Torishi, Thanks a bundle. And I don't mind the lack of reviews, the many Story Alert Notifications I've received kinda make up for that. As towards whether I was serious when I said Mark x Anna, the answer is no. Mark's not going to get involved in anyone during the course of this novelization. That doesn't mean that I don't have tricks up my sleeve, though.

Ardonius, I guess we're just going to have to agree to disagree. Sain's hair has always looked more dirty blond than brown to me... so that's the description I'm going to have to use. Sorry.

Derra, just hang loose. You're about to see a different side of Lyn in this chapter.

Kitten Kisses, we're currently running this around via the PM system, but let me just thank you publicly for such an in-depth reviews. They were wonderful!

**_Begin!_**

_Lyn is a noble._

_I still can't believe that fact. It's… amazing, unbelievable, and yet I can think of no reason why Kent or Sain should lie to us. Their knowledge of Lyn's history and parentage rule that out. No, they have to be telling the truth. Which means that, as much as I'm having trouble believing it, Lyn is of noble birth…_

_-Mark, Wraith of the Lorca_

* * *

"Alright, you…enough of your lollygagging." Mark rolled his shoulder, an action which drew an agitated squawk from Romeo. "It's time for you to get into the air."

The wyvern unleashed a strange hiss/purr from its throat as it looked at its master. After apparently deciding that this was an order that he could not wiggle out of, Romeo leapt off of his partner's shoulder. The winged serpent pumped his wings multiple times and eventually succeeded in gaining altitude.

The raven-haired man watched his wyvern transform into a speck as Romeo vanished into the heavens. With a deep breath, the tactician returned his gaze to the world around him and his attention to guiding his mount. Mark's thoughts turned back to the events of the past few hours. Reverie was settling in and the man felt no compulsion to stop it.

After their brief skirmish during the previous evening, Kent and Sain had alternated shifts throughout the night. At daybreak, Kent had journeyed back to the village and purchased two extra horses. When the red-armored cavalier had returned, the small troop had immediately packed up and began their journey to Caelin.

And now… the excitement had started to die down and the steady drudgery of travel had set in. They'd been making good time throughout the morning and pushed on into the afternoon. Kent had estimated that it would take them almost two full weeks to reach the castle wall, and Lyn was determined to reach her grandfather long before that estimate arrived.

Speaking of which…

Mark finally broke out of his reverie and tried to pay some form of attention to his companions. They had settled into a rather natural formation: Kent and Lyn riding at point, the tactician immediately behind and Sain bringing up the rear. This was probably done, the raven-haired man mused, to keep Sain's… unchivalrous… behavior under control.

The remnants of a conversation in standard drifted back to the tactician. Mark found himself unwittingly listening in.

"Caelin," Lyn's voice spoke with a question. "what is it like?"

Kent didn't reply immediately. The knight turned the question over in his mind before fully replying. The cavalier was naturally quiet by nature, and his years in service to the Marquess Caelin had also ingrained a healthy dose of diplomatic tact. Fortunately, sugar-coating was not needed in this situation.

"It is a prosperous place. The rolling hills and valleys provide excellent land for farming, while its many forests and woodlands provide carpenters with the resources to build their villages. People live a quiet life under the care of Marquess Hausen; he is a fair, gentle man who cares for his subjects."

The Sacean plainswoman hesitated. A question was begging to be released from her lips. After a few seconds passed, Lyn gave in and spoke her mind.

"… and yet, Marquess Hausen was a man who grew angry at my mother for marrying into the Lorca."

Kent nodded as if he had been expecting this point for quite some time. It was a cold truth, but one that needed to be addressed.

"Your mother, Lady Madelyn, was a compassionate, understanding woman, a lady of no equal. When Lady Madelyn met your father, she realized that the Saceans were not the barbarians the rest of the world made them out to be.

"But any woman can make mistakes, as can any man. Lady Madelyn feared that the Marquess would be swayed by public opinion, she did not believe that he would honor their marriage.

"Lady Madelyn eloped with your father, leaving only a note to explain her actions. The Marquess was confused and furious; believing that your father had abducted his daughter. When Lady Madelyn refused to return to him and to abandon Hasser, it only escalated matters, leading the Marquess to abandon her.

"Had Lady Madelyn made known her intentions to the Marquess beforehand, I have but to wonder if things would have turned out as they had. The Marquess might have been more understanding… and our roads easier to walk."

Lyn frowned as she digested this information. Sacean culture highlighted honor and duty, and set those virtues above all else. Honoring one's parents and tribal customs fell under that heading. Failure to uphold these virtues could result in banishment from a tribe, or removal from a family. But such a punishment was reserved only for the most heinous crime or circumstance, and not something to be performed lightly.

However, strong family bonds also played into Sacean culture. The plainswoman could think of no instance where a daughter or son desiring to marry into another tribe, although rare, had been forbidden. Quite the contrary, such marriages were encouraged in order to strengthen the ties between tribes and form alliances. If a person's family fell under attack, then that person's marital relations would be honor-bound to help.

All of this left the situation more confused than clarified to Lyn's mind. Had her mother violated some taboo in marrying her father? Was that what had prompted her grandfather to sever all ties with his daughter? And the most important question: if such an extreme had been reached, could Marquess Hausen truly have allowed his heart to have been changed?

Then there was that statement Kent had made, about the rest of the world viewing her tribe as savages. What was the reasoning behind that?

The questions were endless, and Lyn had no idea how to begin finding her answers.

At length, Kent spoke anew.

"The Marquess regrets his actions. He believes that he acted rashly in the past, and desires to make amends. That is why he sent us to find you, to put to right the wrong he had committed. It takes strength to admit that one is wrong."

"I… suppose… and yet-"

Mark's attention drifted away from the conversation. This was ground that he didn't want to intrude upon. The tactician cast a quick glance over his shoulder, and discovered Sain, atop his horse, trotting behind him. The blond man's eyes were closed, arms folded behind his head, and smiling. It didn't take much for the raven-haired man to realize what Sain was dreaming about.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mark raised an eyebrow as he aimed a question at the cavalier.

Sain's grin never faltered. The cavalier righted himself, adopted a more fitting posture, and then broadened his grin.

"But of course! With the lovely Lady Lyndis in our party, how could one not be well? Just the opportunity to bask in her beauty is enough to set the heart aflutter!"

"… One can suppose." Mark replied hesitantly. The entire idea of basking in anyone's beauty, much less Lyn's, made him feel uncomfortable, as if he were violating some sacred promise. The tactician decided to swiftly change the topic of conversation. "Sain, about yesterday…"

"Ah, you wish to revisit the daring deeds that were accomplished under my heroic lance. Say no more. I understand completely."

"You… do…?"

"Of course. I will admit that I allowed my pride to get the better of me, a most grievous flaw on my part. Rest assured that I shall indeed remember that swords best axes while lances best swords. But such a blunder is in the past, I can only strive to do better in the future." Sain waved a hand dismissively.

The tactician felt his eyebrow raise again as he was forced to consider his companion in a new light.

"Sain… I… it looks like I've misjudged you. There appears to be more to you than first appears." The raven-haired man admitted.

"Pshaw." The cavalier's grin broadened. "Base logic is not above me. An axe's strength is in its broad strokes and wide paths. Facing a lance would be to the advantage, since the fighting style would provide ample opportunity to evade and counterattack. The lance's strength is its range, once an axe-wielder bypasses that range, there is little defense the user can raise."

"Reasoning which is otherwise known as Hercule's Weapons Triangles." Mark noted. "Centuries ago, the warlord Alexander Hercule developed observations and theories that detail the strengths and weaknesses of each weapon. In basic terms, it boils down to this simple fact: Axes over Lances over Swords. An axe's broad stroke carries it around the lance, a lance's range keeps the sword at bay, and a sword's finesse bypasses an axe's swipe."

"Interesting." Sain said with genuineness.

"It can be." The tactician noted.

At that moment, a warbling cry came from overhead. Immediately Mark turned his gaze skyward as Romeo descended from his flight. The wyvern was cackling and squealing, raising quite the ruckus. The raven-haired man allowed Romeo to land on his shoulder. Then he dissected the pattern of screeches for his companion.

"Something's coming… from the skies, and they're armed." The man's mouth twisted into a frown. "From the sky? We are nearing the Bern border… would this be a Wyvern Rider?"

"Or perhaps a pegasus knight!" Sain bolted upright at the idea of that class, as his companions had expected him to.

By now, all four members of the party had stopped in response to Romeo's warbling cry. Upon hearing the news that a flying unit was in the area they immediately looked to the sky overhead. True to the alarm and defying all odds, a Pegasus, winged horse that it was, appeared in the horizon. The sky-rider drifted over the quartet's heads and circled twice.

"A pegasus knight… in Sacea?" Kent's stoic features revealed just a hint of his bewilderment. "What does she want?"

Mark stole a glance at Lyn. The plainswoman's gaze was aimed at the winged horse. It might have been his imagination, but the tactician thought he caught a strange emotion on her features was it… eagerness?

Sain's joyous shout drew the tactician's attention back to the Pegasus. The raven-haired man was amazed to discover that the sky-rider had descended and was lightly touching down to the ground. The Illian Knight's mount took a few steps as the last of it's momentum wore off, and then almost immediately the rider dismounted.

Kent's hand flashed down and gripped the base of his lance. The man started to bolt forward to place himself defensively between his liege and this newcomer, but was cut off as Mark grabbed his shoulder.

The red-armored cavalier turned in his saddle, and had his question answered before it was made.

"Hold." The tactician whispered as he dropped from his saddle to the ground. "I don't think she means harm."

The man's words proved correct for Lyn had also dismounted. The green-haired Sacean was running towards the Knight with a cry of 'Florina!' falling from her lips. The blue-haired Illian also squealed the Sacean's name. The two caught the other in a friendly embrace.

"Florina!" A laugh interrupted the woman's words. "Florina! What are you doing here?"

"Lyn, I- I was worried about you." The Illian spoke in little more than a whisper. "I heard about the… that night, and that you'd left with two… men from Lycia. I wanted to make sure that you were alright."

Lyn's eyes softened. The plainswoman was able to discern the whole story from those choice sentences. Florina had been genuinely worried about her, and acted to make sure that no ill fate had befallen her comrade. Kent and Sain where honorable, yes, but the rumors and news circling the plains might fail to include that fact, or, as Florina had indicated, changed it altogether.

"I'm fine, Florina. If anything I'm glad that you're alright, I hadn't heard from you in so long."

"I'm sorry, I should have written or something."

"No, that isn't what I meant."

At this point, the two reunited friends realized that they were the focus of three men who were doing their best not to stare at the scene. Mark was alternating his attention between Romeo and the horizon; Kent was dutifully sweeping his gaze in an effort to keep watch, and Sain was glancing at the two with not-quite-successfully-disguised interest.

Florina cleared her throat to buy herself a moment. After regaining her composure, the pegasus knight posed a question to her friend.

"Um… are these the…men you're traveling with?"

Lyn nodded and turned to begin a round of introductions. The green-haired Sacean swept her eyes over her companions, wondering where to begin. At length, the plainswoman extended her hand to indicate the red-armored cavalier.

"This is Kent of Caelin. Marquess Hausen dispatched him to find me." The plainswoman turned to indicate the other present cavalier. "He was accompanied by Sain."

The moment that his name was mentioned, the blond cavalier leapt from his horse and stepped towards the Illian. An easygoing grin appeared on his lips while a light began to dance in his eyes.

"Ah, my dearest Florina! I am so pleased to meet you; your very presence and beauty stirs the passion in our hearts and inspires us to guard you and our liege with our very lives! You've come to us like an angel descending from the heavens, and are… every… bit as… beautiful…"

Mark watched with no small amusement as Sain's running monologue trailed off beneath Lyn's fierce gaze. The tactician's shoulders quivered as he tried to suppress a laugh at the sight of Sain's face slowly transforming from radiant hero to terrified scoundrel. His efforts not to laugh were made all the more difficult by the fact that it had been quite apparent that Sain was not, in fact, serious about any sentiments he had expressed or entertained. Sain had merely been being Sain, the romantic knight that he was.

"Kent, Sain, this is Florina." Lyn renewed her introductions. As an afterthought, she added a line that was pointedly aimed in a certain blond knight's directions. "She's a little… timid… about men."

The tactician noted this fact and stored it for future reference. Actually, now that it had been brought to his attention, the raven-haired man realized that Florina had retreated behind Lyn and was doing her best to escape the green cavalier's line of sight.

Sain bowed slightly, then retreated back to his horse. While that action might have allowed him to escape relatively unscathed, the cavalier just could not resist continuing. The knight's foot entered the stirrup, and with practiced ease he vaulted onto his horse's back.

"Then she has nothing to fear, for we will protect her from any black hearted vagabonds!" The blond cavalier proclaimed grandly.

The green-haired woman took a moment to regain her temper. Lyn then turned to the last person in her entourage.

"And this is Mark, my tactician." The nomadic girl explained.

A loud squawk ripped through the air, followed by the flapping form of Romeo. The wyvern literally danced through the party and dropped onto the Illian's left shoulder. The small dragon ignored Florina's muffled, surprised shriek, and maintained his perch. Without wasting any time, the wyvern stood straight, looked at the newcomer and unleashed a small 'quwarple?'.

"And Romeo, his wyvern." Somehow, Lyn managed to get the words out from around her threatening laughter.

Kent actually allowed himself a small half-smile over the wyvern's antics, while Sain gave voice to a low, rolling laugh.

"Well met." Mark grinned in amusement. "I apologize for his actions, Romeo's a little on the fickle, independent side."

As her heartbeat finally stabilized, Florina allowed herself to relax. The Illian had been startled and surprised over the dragon's actions, but didn't take offense to them. A small, uncomfortable smile passed over her lips as she looked at the wyvern that was too close for her comfort.

Mark stepped forward to reclaim his partner, then stopped as he remembered the lavender-haired girl's phobia. The tactician paused, then brought his hand back and knocked it against his shoulder guard. Romeo voiced his displeasure with the order, but complied by winging his way back to his regular perch.

"Um… Lyn. If I could ask…why are you… traveling with them?" The pegasus knight tried to turn the attention off of herself and onto the other occurring events.

The Sacean frowned as she realized that this was going to be a long explanation.

* * *

_It's strange._ Mark mused as he continued working various utensils and pans. The tactician was busy preparing the troop's evening rations and allowing himself a little private reflection. _It's as if someone stole Lyn out from under us and replaced her with a twin. I haven't heard her say a word about bandits since Florina arrived… and after watching them carry on earlier, you'd never think she was trying to avenge her tribe.  
_  
The raven-lavendar man paused his thoughts in order to push Romeo away from the semi-prepared meal. The wyvern had been eyeing one of the steaks mischievously, and Mark had been forced to bop the serpent on the head in mid-theft.

Mark took his eyes from the meat he had been preparing and focused instead on their makeshift campsite. 'Campsite' might have been too generous a word. It was really little more than a fire pit and a spread of bedrolls set up amidst the crumbling ruins of an abandoned village wall.

The tactician noted that Lyn and Florina were sitting a short distance away, nestled against one of the many crumbling structures, while Kent maintained a respectful, yet observant, distance. Sain was left as the odd-man-out. Although the green-armored knight was currently caring for the horses, Mark was sure that the blond man cast more looks in the female's direction that was strictly necessary. Lyn's veiled reproof seemed to have tempered Sain's nature for the moment.

As Mark had noted, Lyn was deep in conversation with Florina… although not about old memories as the man had surmised. The Sacean had just finished informing the Illian about all that had transpired over the course of the past week.

Florina stared wide-eyed at her friend as she replayed the entire story in her mind.

"Y-You mean that you're the granddaughter of a nobleman?"

"It looks that way." Lyn admitted. "I was shocked to learn of it as well, but… I suppose that it's true. Kent doesn't strike me as the kind to make mistakes. If he were willing to confront me, then he must have been sure."

"I… suppose so." The lavender-haired Illian cast a nervous gaze at the aforementioned cavalier. "He does seem… dutiful."

The Sacean pondered this for a moment but made no reply. Although tactfully distant, Kent was still well within earshot. Lyn didn't want to talk about the knight when he was in no position to take part in the conversation.

Truthfully, Lyn was unsure what to make of her red-haired companion. The plainswoman didn't doubt his honor or integrity, but there was just something about Kent that stabbed at her and annoyed the fringes of her consciousness. The plainswoman couldn't quite put a name to the feeling… and that frustrated her.

The green-haired woman shook her head. Now was not the time to reflect on these issues.

"But enough of myself." The Sacean changed the subject, "What of your sisters?"

Florina opened her mouth to reply, but jumped in surprise when Kent's tenor voice, not her soft tones, exploded over the campsite. As one, the Illian and Sacean bolted to their feet. They then turned to look in the general direction of the cavalier.

If Kent had noticed their surprise, he gave no indication of it. The red-haired knight was shouting an alarm and pointing opposite their campsite. At the end of his indication a weary man was striding into view. A man who sported hair the color of dark rust and an easygoing gate that boasted no particular destination and all the time in the world to get there.

Mark and Sain materialized out of the late afternoon sun and stood alongside the red-haired cavalier. The blond knight proceeded to hand his companion a lance, while the tactician and his wyvern studied the situation.

Lyn's hand dropped to rest defensively on the hilt of her blade, for she had no knowledge of this newcomer's intentions. If he meant no harm, then all would be well. If he meant them harm, all would not end well. The Sacean stepped forward and looked the incoming man over.

Florina backpedaled and placed herself behind her friends. The Illian cast a quick glance to her pegasus, who was tethered with the rest of their mounts, and felt particularly vulnerable without her steed.

The lavender-haired knight turned her attention back to the developing situation just as the newcomer gave an easygoing shout.

"Halloooo! Don't get yourselves all worked up!" The man proclaimed in standard. He then held his arms wide to show that he was carrying no weapon and meant peace. "I'm just a simple traveler, I have no coin and ask for none, I merely saw you all off in the distance and thought to get acquainted."

Kent turned slightly and cast a quick look at his liege. Lyn deferred the decision to Mark with a quick nod of her head. The tactician looked the situation over and then gave his verdict.

"He's an archer, look at the bow on his back. Once he gets within a few yards of us he won't be a threat. Keep a watch on him until then, if he goes for his bow then scatter and do what must be done."

Fortunately, that last condition on that instruction was never fulfilled. The newcomer made sure to keep his hands empty as he approached the group and as such gave them no cause for alarm.

"I saw your campfire off in the distance." The archer reiterated. "So I scooted closer to find out what was what. Eventually I decided that you all meant no harm and were fellow travelers or good-natured mercenaries. So I said to myself: 'Wil, it might just be worthwhile to drop by on a visit and get to know them. Maybe they'll even let you travel with 'em."

"Travel with us?" Lyn took point in the conversation. "And why should you desire that?"

"A few reasons, actually." Wil spoke as if confronting a group of weapon-ready warriors was an everyday occurrence. "First being that to get to Caelin you'll have to cut through Bern. The bandits in that area are growing bolder. I'm not afraid of a good brawl, but I'd rather not journey alone as there's safety in numbers. Secondly, my bow has just about reached the end of its life, which means that as soon as it snaps I'll be defenseless. Thirdly, I heard that you all were headin' for Caelin, which seems as good a destination as any. Fourthly, my purse has run rather dry, and if I can work for your little group I think that would be a boon to all of us."

Kent's mouth deepened a hair. The new coming archer's speech was bothering him. The cavalier took the initiative and spoke his mind.

"You said that we were heading for Caelin, how, pray tell, do you know this?"

"Simple enough, really. I crept up on your campsite and overheard the ladies talking. The Sacean was talkin' 'bout getting to Caelin and meeting with her grandfather as quickly as possible. That made up my mind more than anythin'. So I circled around and came in from the front so as not to upset you all." Wil shrugged.

Behind his somber mask, alarm flooded Kent's mind. If an archer had been able to get within earshot of Lyn, then their guard was far too lax. Had Wil had harbored any ill intentions towards the plainswoman then he could have gotten his revenge and been gone before any of them had realized what was happening. In the future, he would have to be more diligent.

Mark took note of the sudden tension that filled the red-armored cavalier's body and catalogued it for future reference. The raven-haired man would have to ask about it later.

"… Let me discuss the matter with the others." Lyn took control of the conversation. "And we should have an answer for you shortly."

The discussion regarding the question of Wil's accompaniment was actually quite short. Mark was quick to point out that they currently had no ranged attackers in their party, and that Wil's addition to the team would fill a large hole in their tactical prowess. Lyn noted that if Wil had meant any harm, then he could have taken it while spying on them (Mark, again, noted that Kent tensed under that point) and that if his traveling with them kept them all safer then so much the better. Sain's stance was that someone as naturally laid-back and cheerful as Wil was could not really mean them harm. Kent merely bowed to the arguments of the others, while Florina abstained from the discussion.

As such, a unanimous decision was quickly reached. And Sain was quick to play that up into a grand scene. The blond cavalier turned from the discussion to face the archer and allowed a smile to fly upon his face.

"Welcome to Lyndis' Legion, my fellow traveler! It is home to men of fire and passion, and women whose beauty outshines the stars." Sain walked over to the newcomer and clapped a hand over his shoulders as if they were longtime friends. "Allow me to introduce you to the others…"

A bewildered look appeared on the Sacean's face.

"'Lyndis'… Legion?'" The plainswoman repeated.

"Yes, Lyndis' Legion!" Sain proclaimed grandly. "You heard our archer friend, he wishes to join our merry band. And every mercenary company requires a name, does it not? Therefore, I give you Lyndis' Legion!"

Kent frowned in disapproval.

"Milady, I apologize for his outburst." The cavalier whispered under his breath.

"There's no need." Lyn shook her head. "You are not responsible for his actions. And further, he does have a point, the guise of mercenaries could speed our journey to Caelin by providing a ready answer to those who question our travels."

"Very well then." Kent conceded his disagreement.

Mark took this opportunity to slip away from the others and return to his attention-deprived dinner preparations. The tactician was aghast to discover that in his absence, the broth had overcooked and several steaks have gone missing… along with a certain wyvern. Still, one couldn't change the past, and so the raven-haired man set about correcting those mistakes.

Some time later, the tactician had rectified the meal and produced a meager banquet that, in his opinion, was quite decent. Mark stood and called the others to the fire with the allure of food. The raven-haired man was always amused at how quickly people assembled at mealtime, and this evening was no disappointment.

"Alright, then."

Mark distributed the plates, rations and helpings. As he was handing Wil a meal, the raven-haired youth noted, somewhat bitterly, that Romeo had crept back into the proceedings unaware. Obviously the wyvern had decided that his companion wouldn't publicly scold him for his actions and that returning under the cover of the crowd would get him off the hook.

That didn't stop the tactician from deciding that Romeo most decidedly would not be receiving his normal rations afterward.

The raven-haired man cast his gaze about and couldn't help but lift an eyebrow at the way their group had broken down. Kent was eating while standing. The knight's eyes were moving from the horizon to the party and back again as the cavalier kept watch. Wil had seated himself alongside Sain opposite Lyn and was busy swapping life stories with the Sacean. Sain was alongside Wil, doing his best not to frighten Florina too much.

"There's not really much to tell." Wil was explaining. "I grew up in a little town down near Pharea, but left it some time back to find my fortune. I've been wandering about since and just happened to stumble across your little band."

"You left…" Lyn replied slowly. "Just like that?"

The cheery man visibly checked himself before replying. Whatever he had been about to say was lost forever. Instead of his previous sentence, Wil decided to go in another direction.

"Yes, uh, just like that. There was no reason for me to stay… what with the wide world out there, I wanted to see some of it. So I left and explored Lycia before making my way up here past Bern."

"I see…" The plainswoman's voice betrayed her words. She clearly didn't see at all.

"But a world traveler!" Sain interjected. "Just think of the stories that he must have. Surely a charming youth such as yourself has had some experiences in life, why do you not share some of them?"

"Share… my experiences?" A questioning look passed over Wil's face.

"Yes, your experiences of love and fortune! Surely somewhere in your travels you have encountered love or a fair lass who calls you her man. I can just imagine it now, a young girl who waits with baited breath for your return. Perhaps, oh. but, perhaps she is a woman of some nobility, and her father is a wealthy merchant, who forbids her to marry such a mere commoner. So you must brave the world and find fame and fortune! And once you have found your good fortune, you may return and prove once and for all that love will win in the end, and that no one may keep you apart!"

Wil stared at the cavalier for a long moment, then burst into a round of laughter over the absurdity of the tale. His rolling laughter was infectious and soon passed to Lyn, who in turn prompted Florina to giggle as Mark suppressed a chuckle. As crazy as it was, Sain's story had effectively broken the ice between the newcomer and the rest of the Legion.

"I only wish that were true." The archer shook his head in amusement. "No, I don't have some 'fair lass' waiting by the window for me. Although there was that one time I ran into a rather cross female lion…"

Mark raised an eyebrow, prompting the archer to continue.

"It happened farther back, closer to the plains. A group of villagers took me in and allowed me to stay with them." The bowman explained. "In return, I went out hunting and tried to bring back some game. I'm from Pharea, you know, and it's a fairly woodland area so hunting amidst the plains was a new experience for me.

"I did pretty bad at it, those creatures you've got there move fast, but eventually I managed to snag something that looked like a deer. I set about to collect it. Problem was that a certain lioness had her eye on that particular prize and she didn't like me messing with it."

Wil paused for effect and was pleased to note that his audience was hanging onto his every word. Even Kent seemed to have allowed himself just enough laxity to listen to the tale. The archer took a breath and continued.

"The moment I touched the deer, if that's what it was, that lioness let loose a roar and came after me with claws flyin'. You know the saying: 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?' Well the fury of a scorned woman has nothing to do with the rage of a lioness. That thing chased me clean across the plains and right back to the village. 'Course it all worked out in the end. The villagers said that the sight of me screaming and flailing as I ran through the gates with a lion on my tail was worth more than any meat. They got such a kick out of it that they never bothered to press me for any recompense."

The camp exploded into laughter as each member present found themselves trying to imagine a screaming, terrified Wil fleeing the wrath of a beast of prey. The idea was so ludicrous that they couldn't help but express their mirth. Romeo, who was oblivious to the story described, merely squawked in agitation over the way his companions were acting.

Clearly, Wil had been exaggerating, for lions were not native to Bern or Sacea, but his truth-stretching had served his purpose.

"_Lez Flancha._" Mark hissed under his breath as his laughter subsided.

Florina blinked in surprise and cast a quick look at the tactician, a look a that Wil shared.

"What was that?" The archer asked.

"Huh? Oh…. sorry, I slipped into the Etrurian dialect… its an… uh… old habit… the spirit of the phrase translates into 'the crazy idiot'." The tactician noted uneasily. It was one thing to voice his opinions when no one understood a word that he was saying, but it was quite another to have to explain them after the fact.

"Ah, yeah, that pretty much summed it up." Wil waved the comment away with one hand. "So you're from Etruria?"

"No… I hail from Bern, actually. I've spent some time in Illia and Etruria, and make it a point to learn the language of every nation wherein I reside, if at all possible. It's true that the nobility and many merchants know the standard Elibean language, but I have run across many who only know the local dialects… communicating with them is easier if I understand their language."

"Ah, that strikes me as a wise thing to do." The archer nodded ruefully. "My travels would have been much easier if I knew what others were saying."

A silence descended upon the group as no one was quite certain what so say next. At length, Lyn stood and took control of the group.

"We have a long ride tomorrow, it would probably be best if we were to all rest early." The plainswoman commented.

"That… sounds reasonable." Florina nodded as she too stood.

Kent turned his attention back to the rest of the group. The cavalier took a step closer to the others and spoke his mind.

"Milady, if I may interrupt. I think it would be for the best if we were to set up a rotation for watch. According to Wil, the bandits are growing increasingly bolder, it would be to our advantage to be wary."

Lyn pondered this for a moment and then shook her head in agreement.

"That seems to be a wise idea. I will leave it to your capable hands to decide on the arrangement."

"Right away."

The red-haired cavalier accepted the task and set about establishing the order of rotation. Kent declared that Sain was to take the first watch, while he would take the second (probably to prevent any romantic infatuations), Mark was slated for the third rotation while Florina would take the fourth slot. The cavalier planned to end the night by allotting Wil the final watch. However, after Lyn's intervention and protests that she would not be treated any differently from the others, Kent amended his plans so that Lyn would claim early morning guard duty. This produced an even division of night hours between them and left everyone satisfied.

Upon getting their itinerary squared away. The assembled group broke up as everyone began to tend to last-minute chores and errands. Mark busied himself with cleaning the remains of their evening meal and making sure that Romeo paid for his crimes by not receiving any sympathy scraps. Kent made one last circling tour of the ruined village to put his mind at rest while Sain and Wil attended to packing their supplies. Lyn and Florina moved off to care for the horses.

Glad that the meal was over, and she was free of the others, Florina untethered her mount, Huey, and led the pegasus a short distance away from the camp. The Illian released a long, slow breath and felt herself relax now that there was some distance between herself and the rest of the troop. Being around so many others for so great a time had been trying for the Illian. The girl was in desperate need to unburden her thoughts on someone else, and there was no ear that was more willing to listen than her pegasus.

"Well, Huey, here we are. I… I guess we finally found Lyn." The lavender-haired flier commented as she began checking her horse for any sign of injury. "Can you believe she's Marquess Hausen's granddaughter? Lyn? It's… like a dream. The Lyn I know doesn't look anything like those ladies or escorts you see in the courts or in the cities. It just doesn't seem real for her to be one of them… or that she's going to Lycia. I never expected her to ever leave the plains… or if she did that it would be with so many… men. I hope we can all… get along"

The pegasus knight frowned as she worked a stone free of Huey's shoe and continued her narrative.

"I … guess that I have to start somewhere… You know I'd have to join up with a mercenary band sooner or later, and this might be good practice for the… real thing. At least they all look nice-"

Florina's eyes widened and a blush spilled across her features as she realized what words had just left her mouth.

"I mean. They're all acting nice, not that they look nice… that's not to say that they don't but… uh… well… You know what I meant… Kent seems quiet and… dutiful… I think he's a nice man.

"Wil's got a nice smile, and he acts pretty cheerful… I really don't know much about him aside from that.

Florina frowned as she continued her narrative.

"Sain… is loud… he scared me a few times this afternoon with the way he talks. No one really takes him seriously… but… you never know. It's almost like he could… just be waiting to ambush me."

At that precise moment, the voice of a certain blond-haired cavalier split the air.

"Dame Florina! You loyal Sain has been searching for you!"

The lavender-haired Illian suppressed a surprised shriek. Florina whipped about to find Sain standing behind her with a lazy grin affixed to his features.

One single thought flooded the girl's mind: i"How much of that did he hear?"/i

If the cavalier had heard any of the lavender-haired girl's musings, he gave no indication of it. Sain hastened to put the Illian girl at ease. The last thing he wanted right now was a scene. The green-armored cavalier held up his hands in a placating gesture and waited for the girl to settle.

"My Dame Florina, I wish to assure you that my intentions are steadfastly honorable. I merely ask a favor of you." The cavalier explained.

"A… favor?" Florina took a half-step back, taking some form of shelter behind her pegasus' wing. Already thoughts and ideas were swirling about the young girl's mind as to just what that 'favor' would be. None of them were pleasant.

"Yes, it is a simple matter really. You see as you noticed, Mark, our tactician, has a rather expansive vocabulary that spans many languages." Sain said. "And as of late he has taken to giving me a pet name of the Illian language. Since you hail from that part of the continent, I was wondering if you would do me the service of explaining it to me."

The Illian knight frowned and put more of Huey between the cavalier and herself. She wasn't entirely sure that Sain didn't have an ulterior motive, but if this was all that he wanted it wouldn't be fair to turn him away.

"Ah… uh… I see… Wh- what does he call you?"

"He refers to me almost exclusively as an 'ee-nah-gow-whick'."

Sain could only stare as Florina's eyes widened and her mouth opened to form a perfect 'O' of surprise.

So surprised was the cavalier that he almost fell over backwards as the pegasus knight's scream split through the air.

On the other side of the camp, Mark bolted upright as Florina's sharp cry reached his ears. The tactician cast his gaze across the ruined village and it landed upon a peculiar scene. Florina was hiding behind her winged horse and doing her best to avoid Sain, who was gesturing wildly and looking completely confused.

The raven-haired man frowned in disbelief. He didn't think that Sain would actually push his luck so far as to actually frighten the girl. The cavalier had, in point of fact, behaved himself throughout the day. So what could have done to reduce the lavender-haired Illian to tears in a few short minutes?

_What? What's the _ena gowet_ up to?_

Realization struck the tactician.  
_  
Sister Ice and Brother Fire, tell me that he didn't!_

The tactician scrambled to his feet and hastened to intervene in the situation. The last thing that he wanted was for Lyn to cut Sain down for making Florina cry- especially when there was a very real chance that the cavalier was innocent of any wrongdoing.

The irony of the situation was not lost on Mark at all, however.

_**End!**_


	4. Arrows

A.N.: So, eight long months later I have finally finished Eliwood's story in _Fire Emblem_ (With Kent/Lyn A Support, Eliwood/Ninian A Support, Hector/Florina A Support, and an overall rank of A).

Anywho... on with the show.

**Derra,** Youch. An adult Romeo is something that actually scares me at this point; I think its safe to say that he'll be getting a hefty dose of maturity somewhere down the line.

**Neko Hibiki,** eh, sorry to disappoint but, no. I just don't write like that.

**Kray Torishi,** I think it would have gotten him looked at strangely more often than slapped. Florina's just had a bit of a bad experience with... erm... gowets. More will be revealed on that once the other two sisters show up.

**Diaz Rivaut,** The answer to that is 'yes and no'. Mark's been traveling with his father since childhood, which is when he met Merlinous, but only been on his own for a year or so. As towards his age, I haven't set anything in stone, yet, but I'd say that early to mid-twenties would be a decent ballpark range.

And a large thanks to Kitten Kisses for her massive and insightful review!

**_Begin!  
_**

_It's not the first time that my habit of switching dialects at will has gotten me into trouble, but never before had it been to such an extant._

_Granted, I erred greatly in assuming Sain to have a one-track mind; and this mistake did indeed come back to haunt me. I'll have to be more cautious in the future._

_… And I don't care what Wil says. The rage of a lioness and the scorn of a woman hold no candle to a Sacean on the warpath. I don't believe that I've ever seen anyone look more furious._

_Mark, Wraith of the Lorca.  
_

* * *

"Well, this is going to make the journey more interesting." Mark mused aloud.

The raven-haired man looked up as he came to his conclusion. He was unsurprised to find that everyone was ready to go, all they needed was for the plan to be revealed.

Mark stepped closer to Kent and Lyn and extended the map for them. The two looked over the tactician's calculations with a critical eye.

"We're within range of this settlement here." The raven-haired man pointed to a marking on his chart. "We should reach it by sundown and the trip will only set us back half of a day. We can supplement our supplies there and refresh our weaponry. And factoring Wil's assessment of the bandit situation, which he briefed me on earlier, it would be safer for us to camp near a town than anywhere else. There are several old ruins in the general area that would afford us shelter."

Lyn looked to Kent, indicating that she awaited his thoughts on the matter. The red-haired cavalier turned the matter over in his mind and looked at the situation from several angles. At length, the cavalier came to his decision.

"I believe that his plan is sound."

"Very well then, we'll adjust our march accordingly."

With their liege's pronouncement, the others immediately mounted their horses. They filed into the same order as on the previous day, the only addition being that Wil was mounted behind Sain while Florina joined Romeo in the skies.

The clomph of their horses hooves beat out a steady rhythm on the ground, and the travelers set off at a decent pace. They had a long journey ahead of them.

"So…" The archer drawled. "If you don't mind my asking, what was all the fuss about last night?"

As soon as that question was raised, Sain grew distracted by the passing scenery while Mark suddenly found his horse's hooves to be particularly fascinating. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Then the raven-haired man broke the silence.

"It was… a… rather unusual turn of events. Have you ever been to Illia or heard of the Legend of Andel?"

Wil frowned and peered back into the depths of his memory. The red-haired man thought for a few moments and then shook his head.

"No, can't say as I have."

"Well, uh, there's an Illian lizard, commonly referred to as an Ena Gowet." The tactician explained. "It… eh… chooses one partner every year, mates, and then the, uh, male cannibalizes the female.

"The ancients used something like the ena gowet in an old Illian folktale." The tactician explained. "Andel was a youth who stole an enchanted blade from a powerful sage. The sage caught up to the youth and punished him by giving him the appearance of a reptilian lizard and removing his ability to feel any emotion but guilt. The curse could only be removed should a maiden grow to love him.

"Many years passed, and over time a myth developed about the 'Ena Gowet'- a fierce monster who would devour anyone who crossed his path - as Andel roamed the land. Several women encountered Andel but his appearance was so horrifying that it killed them outright. Then one day, a young woman happened to see Andel for the tortured soul that he was. She grew to love him, and eventually broke the spell.

"But the sage was not satisfied; in a fit of rage he tracked Andel and his new bride down. He killed them both."

Wil's eyes widened as he unleashed a low whistle to explain his surprise. His shock eventually gave way to confusion, as the archer tied to discover the connection between the legend and the events of the previous night.

Mark continued his explanation.

"I… committed a horrible misdeed and severely misjudged Sain. Under that false impression I gave Sain the Illian nickname of 'Ena Gowet', and referred to him exclusively as such. I also refused to tell Sain what the name meant. As such, when Florina arrived, he went to her in complete innocence and inquired about the nickname."

Wil grimaced. He'd only been with the group for little more than a night, but he had already been made aware of Florina's… idiosyncrasies… and the redhead could easily imagine the outcome of such a scene. This imagination was helped along with the firsthand knowledge of the previous night's events.

Silence descended upon the group for several minutes.

At length, Mark sighed. The raven-haired tactician turned his attention from the archer to the cavalier and spoke anew.

"Sain. I have no right to ask you this, but I have committed a horrible trespass against you. I judged you both wrongly and far too quickly. I… can not undo what's been done, all I can do is tell you how sorry I am and ask for your forgiveness."

The green-armored knight looked up and then fixed his eyes upon the tactician. The knight's trademark lazy grin appeared on his lips as waved a hand dismissively.

"Why, but think nothing of it! It was merely a bit of good fun that got out of hand, a bit of spice to liven our dreary days. Consider all forgiven between us."

Despite the blond man's words, Mark was certain that he caught a hint of empty pain. Clearly, Sain was doing his best to forget the incident. However, not all wounds healed overnight. The cavalier and tactician would both have to do their best to repair the damage done and to move past it. It could be done, but time would be required.

Mark vowed to do whatever was necessary to make it so.

* * *

The day passed without incident. By late afternoon, the Legion had arrived at the village of Sandor.

As they passed through the town gates, Kent cast a wary eye over their surroundings. The cavalier's probing gaze was looking for anything that could remotely pose a threat to them or their liege. Between the small, solidly-constructed houses and the dirt-lined alleyways, the red-haired man found nothing to be worried about.

Florina and Huey descended from the skies. The pegasus knight came to rest near Lyn but was careful to maintain her distance from the others.

The Legion collectively dismounted from their mounts and tethered them near the town gates. Kent continued to watch and examine their surroundings. The red-armored cavalier abruptly noted that a portly, balding man was hobbling his way towards them with the aid of a walking stick. The cavalier righted himself and dropped one hand to his weapon defensively.

The approaching man noticed this and came to a stop at a respectful distance. He then took the initiative to address the newcomers.

"Sando? El soth vent ethein?"

Lyn felt her right eyebrow rise in confusion. The man was neither speaking in the Sacean or Standard dialects, rendering her unable to understand this conversation. The green-haired Sacean shot a quick look at Kent and farmed a question.

"What is he saying?"

"I'm… not sure." The cavalier admitted slowly.

"One would imagine," Sain spoke lightly- with a grin in his words as well as on his face. "that he is but a representative from the common townsfolk, who are prepared to welcome us as heroes should we only drive off some oppressive group of renegades."

"Int! Eth el yot!" The balding man demanded.

As one, Kent and Lyn turned their helpless gaze to their multi-lingual tactician.

Mark gave a half-smile as he shook his head in veiled amusement. After the previous night he was well and eager for a chance to redeem himself. Such an opportunity appeared to have just surfaced. The tactician stepped forward and explained the situation for his comrades.

"He's speaking a variant of the Bernese language. He wants to know what our business is." The raven-haired man explained.

Lyn nodded with understanding.

"We're mercenaries and mean no harm." The Sacean said simply.

"Right." The tactician turned back to the balding man and began a rambling sentence that comprised mostly of mono-syllable words.

No sooner had Mark finished his explanation than did the balding man's countenance change completely. Anger and suspicion flooded the man's features as his eyes darted about each member of the party. He was clearly judging their strength. The man cut loose a verbal barrage of words that so forceful that even somber Kent, who had no knowledge of the language, was visibly taken aback.

The raven-haired tactician was clearly at a momentary loss for words. He recovered quickly, however, and issued a questioning, one-word reply.

Again an angry torrent of speech peeled forth from the village elder.

Mark stiffened; the man slowly turned to his companion- his face grave. The raven-haired man took a moment to explain the tirade to the others in order to by himself a moment to draft a reply.

"First, his name is Gerik. He claims to be the village chief and has declared that we will find no aid from this town. Evidently, Wil's assessment of the situation has proven correct. The local brigades are out of control and are sacking villages almost every night- many of which call themselves mercenaries in an attempt to legitimize their actions.

"They're afraid that we're the same as the others. In that if they give us weapons or shelter, we'll turn on them at the first opportunity. Even now he says that they'll fight us before they'll allow us to come any farther."

The tactician glanced over his assembled group and noted how each seemed to be responding to this news. Lyn's countenance was a mixture of frustration, sympathy and anger; Kent was doing his best to remain impassive, but a crack in his mask betrayed his horror. Wil was shaking his head in grim acceptance of the situation. Florina was recoiling in horror while Sain… Sain was angry.

"This is an outrage!" The green-armored cavalier sputtered in fury. "For bandits to threaten the common citizen to the extant that they cannot safely help simple travelers, it is shameful! Why does not their Marquess aid them in their plight?"

Mark cast a quick glance over his shoulder, and noted that Gerik was visibly agitated by the cavalier's outburst. The tactician whipped about and hastily explained that the blond man's tirade had been directed at the inaction of a higher authority, not at Gerik's refusal to grant them sanctuary.

The two bantered back and forth for a few moments before Mark relaxed enough to turn to his companions.

Lyn took the initiative to answer her escorts' questions.

"Why does the Marquess do nothing? What can he do? What power does he have here? You saw how it was in Sacea, where the honor of the plains and the strength of the sword mean more than the word of any noble. We handled our own problems, and so long as we caused him no direct trouble, the Marquess did not bother with our affairs, I suspect that the same is true here."

"But for a Marquess to… to abandon those in his care!" Sain was clearly having a hard time grasping this concept. "It is unforgivable."

"Quite possibly." Wil spoke up. "But it does happen. Look at your own knightly ranks. Surely not all of them uphold the honor and duty that you do. The Marquess' are all the same. Some are good, some are not."

Kent nodded to concede the point.

The blond cavalier shook his head in defeat.

The green-haired Sacean turned to her tactician and came to a decision on the matter. She was as disgusted with the situation as the others, but understood it better than anyone. If no help was to be found here, then no help was to be found. It was that simple.

"Tell him that we understand and we'll be on our way."

Mark nodded and then relayed the statement beck to Gerik. The village elder nodded and took a step back to indicate that their conversation was over.

The tactician hauled himself into his saddle and took the reigns in hand. After everyone else had mounted, the Legion turned about and left the village behind. They road in silence for a long moment, as each member tried to come to terms with their recent experience.

Lyn took her customary place, riding at point alongside Kent. When the red-armored cavalier tried to excuse and apologize for the villagers actions, the green-haired plainswoman was quick to point out that the actions of others did not reflect on him and that was the end of the matter.

The Sacean frowned as she felt her mood darken slightly. A familiar fire was smoldering in the pit of her stomach. While the rejection that they had faced was not enough to make her angry, it was enough to bring her mind back to a subject that she had been ignoring lately: the revenge of her tribe. Lyn realized that in all that had gone on, learning of her grandfather, meeting Kent and Sain, followed by Florina's return, she had allowed herself to get sidetracked from her primary goal of learning the sword. Fate had seen fit to interrupt her plans and set her on a different course.

But now she was committed to meeting her grandfather, and no Sacean would break their word. For now, she would have to place her revenge on hold… but that did not mean that she could not work to further her aims…

"One day… I will return. And I will avenge my tribe. I will destroy the bandits of this region." Lyn spoke aloud, not caring who in the company heard her.

* * *

At Sandor, two very important issues had come up. Issues as different as could be. One involved personal matters, the other the fate of a company. One would be handled by a young man, the other by a young woman. One was designed to take a life, the other to save it.

As Lyndis' Legion left the village, so did news of their arrival. For concealed behind a chimney lay the robed form of a thieving spy. The man had observed all that went on between the travelers and the elder, then slipped off unnoticed.

The spy easily left the city unnoticed and vanished into the nearby forest. Fleeting footsteps carried the man through the dense foliage and off on his journey.

Time passed.

Eventually the man broke into a clearing- a clearing that was filled with brigands and bandits. The ruffians took one look at the spy and ignored him. One of their own posed no threat to them. The bandit spy easily moved through the camp, eyes wary from force of habit, and set his destination for the tent that rested in the center of those assembled.

The brigand leader, a scruffy man with a shock of brown hair and a set of teeth that boasted one fight too many, looked up at the spy. A smirk passed over the man's lips, and he nodded to the newcomer.

"Well, Vartim, what have you for us? Any news of the whelp who flattened Carjiga? Not that I miss 'im, but its bad for business t' have the leader of our brigade go unavanged."

"Fortune favors us, Migal." Vartim stepped forward and nodded eagerly. "For the pegasus knight has joined up with the company of none other than Lyndis of Sacea."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I am positive. They were escorted by two Caelin knights, a bowman, and a Bernese sage. There can be no mistaking it."

Migal leaned back as a course laugh erupted from his equally rough lips. The rogue continued to bawl as he managed a word after every other chuckle.

"Heh-ha! Looks like ol Carjy's demise was good for somethin'! He's dumped quite the prize in our laps, all's we's gotta do is take out that woman, and we'll be rollin' in the gold!"

The spy nodded, grinned, but made no reply.

The bandit leader sobered and almost leapt to his feet. Migal snatched up the nearest axe and thrust it aloft into the air. The brigade shouted for the attention of his troops and began issuing his order.

"Break camp, boys, we got t' skin us a golden goose!"

* * *

"Gerik!"

The aging elder of Sandor winced as that soft voice reached his ear. Knowing that there was no escaping his fate, Gerik turned to find a brown-haired woman standing behind him. The woman was staring straight into the elder's eyes, as if plumbing then for the answers to her life's questions.

"Did you ask them? Did they know anything?"

The elderly man shook his head with patient practice.

"No, Natalie. They knew nothing."

"Did you even ask them?"

The question took Gerik back a few mental paces- primarily because it was so unlike the quiet, docile Natalie he had known throughout the years. Normally the brunette would simply ask, receive an answer and that would be all. Never before had she pressed the matter like this.

"Natalie, I… there was no need. Only one of them was of Bern, the rest were foreigners. What knowledge would they have had about your husband?"

Undaunted, the woman continued the conversation- even as she wished that she could just give it up. But the many questions and worries she had been harboring within her mind refused to be placated any longer. Natalie needed answer, and she needed to know all was well. If others had given up hope, then she would have to make up for their inaction.

"He might have approached them for work, or passed them by on the road. Even the slightest bit of news about Dorcas would have brought relief to my ears; the simplest sighting would have set me at ease… Gerik, I need to know how he is."

The village elder took a long breath to steady his failing nerves and answered the woman.

"Natalie, it has been over a month. He could be as far as Ostia by now. News takes time to arrive, if you're patient, all will turn out well."

"But… I… No, I cannot sit still. I have to know that he is well. I'm worried about him… worried about the things he might do…" Natalie turned away from the village elder and shook her head in determination. "If you will not ask them, then I will."

Now Gerik was stunned. The brunette had never attempted anything of the sort before, the very idea that she would pursue those travelers… especially in her condition… It was ludicrous. The elder would never have imagined her capable of it.

"Wait, please. Stop and think about this. You can't go alone, just think of the danger! The bandits out there would skin you as soon as look at you!"

Natalie didn't reply, she merely shook her head and walked away.

* * *

Kent's voice split the air.

"We might wish to make camp soon."

The tactician took this comment and looked up to note the position of the fading sun as it hung above the western horizon. Within the next few hours it would be too dark for them to travel safely. The cavalier was right, they would have to camp for the night fairly soon. The tactician turned his eyes skyward and checked up on his wyvern's progress.

Romeo cut over a nearby forest and performed a broad circle twice before moving back to hover over the group. The winged serpent repeated these motions twice more, indicating that he had found something resembling shelter.

"It looks like Romeo's spotted shelter to our northwest." The tactician spoke up. "We might be able to stop there for the night."

"That sounds… reasonable. We'd best see what Florina thinks of the situation." Lyn nodded.

The green-haired Sacean turned her attention to the heavens and gave a quick shout. In response to her cry, Florina and Huey descended from the skies and landed alongside the plainswoman.

Florina cast a questioning look at her friend, wondering why she had been called for.

"We're getting ready to make camp for the night." Lyn explained gently. "Mark thinks that Romeo's spotted some form of nearby shelter, have you seen anything that looks serviceable?"

The lavender-haired Illian frowned for a moment. The pegasus knight delved back into her memory and quickly used the memories of her birds-eye view of the land to compose a mental map of their surroundings. Florina gave a shallow nod as she came to a conclusion on the matter.

"I… think so. There's an abandoned fort nearby. It's… ah… old and crumbling, but should provide shelter."

Lyn spared her friend a small smile.

"Thank you, Florina. You've saved us all a lot of time. Could you lead us to it?"

"Of course!" The pegasus knight replied brightly.

In no time at all the Illian was back in the skies, pointing the way for her comrades.

A quick journey took the entourage to their destination. Although the forest glen slowed their horse's progress, the Legion pressed on. Wil's sharp eyes were the first to spot the building of which they were searching, and with the hunter's trained gaze to supplement Florina's direction they arrived at the fort in fair time.

As one, the mercenary company studied the old stone structure. The yellowed, stone walls once spoke of greatness and importance. Now they were little more than a warning to others that should they boast themselves impenetrable defenses, they must prepare for a fall. Grassy moss clung to the stones, providing an impromptu camouflage, causing the structure to blend in with the rest of the forest.

Florina descended from the skies and reported that, from her aerial view of the situation the castle appeared to be empty. The red armored cavalier visibly relaxed upon hearing this news.

"Mark?" Kent cast his gaze towards their tactician.

The raven-haired man studied the fortress as he tried to recall his tactical lessons. At length, he felt safe enough with his diagnosis to proclaim it.

"It looks defensible and secure enough. I think it will do fine for our purposes."

"Then we'll camp here. I think this will do well." The Sacean's gaze softened a little, whether it was in reverie or expectation no one could tell.

The group broke up as they moved to assemble their makeshift campsite. With practiced ease the members of the Legion went about their individual tasks, a spot was chosen within the ruined castle walls, bedrolls were spread, timber gathered for a fire, horses tethered and tended to, and watches assigned. In short order, the camp had been put together.

The green-haired plainswoman looked over the site to assure herself that everything was in order. She nodded her approval and stepped towards the fort's entrance. Mark noted the move, but paid it no mind. For as long as the tactician had known the plainswoman (all of four days) she had the habit of taking a walk alone before the evening meal. It was nothing unusual, and as such didn't receive any attention from the raven-haired man.

Tonight, however, would not be a normal night.

"My Lady Lyndis, may I ask where you're going?"

Kent hastened his step so that he intercepted his liege. The red-haired cavalier slowed his pace to a walk as he fell into step behind the woman. He was the forced to stop as Lyn also halted her progress and turned to fix the cavalier with a suspicious look.

"I am going for a walk, why do you ask?"

"Then please allow either Wil, Mark or myself to accompany you." The cavalier began his explanation. "Recent events have brought to light the state of bandit activity, It is not be safe for you to go out alone now."

"Quite right! It would hardly be fitting to deny your two humble servants the honor of defending a beautiful lady, such as yourself, from danger!" Sain piped up with vigor.

Many among the Legion wondered whether the blond man's intentions matched his words.

Lyn's eyes darted from Kent to Sain and back again. The Sacean frowned as she tried to make sense of their request. Did they not trust her? Doubt her skill? Did they consider her too weak to protect herself? Or… was there another reason that they desired to accompany her?

The unfathomable annoyance that the green-haired plainswoman felt around Kent came back. This time, however, it was not content to sit at the fringes of her mind, but to worm its way deeper. Lyn was still unable to put a reason to the frustration, but it was there nonetheless.

The woman shook her head, dismissing the notion of an escort.

"I will be fine, I'm not going far or for long."

Alarm flooded Kent's mind, he could not stand by and allow such a grievous violation his duty to go unchecked. Wil had proven that one could not always see dangers coming, and that all it took was one miscalculation to end everything. If Lyn were to go out alone, ill fortune could befall her and no one would know.

"Milady, I must object-"

"As do I." The Sacean cut the cavalier off in mid-sentence. "I will be fine, Kent; stay here to protect the camp in my absence. I will return shortly."

The red-haired cavalier slowly closed his mouth and bowed to the wishes of his liege. The cavalier stepped aside, allowing Lyn to depart.

The plainswoman took the opportunity, she stepped from the entrance and vanished from sight.

Mark performed a quick sidestep, putting him within range of Wil. The raven-haired man quickly dropped a hand upon the archer's shoulder. As the bowman turned quizzically to see what was wanted of him, the tactician explained his plan.

"Follow her, but don't let yourself be seen. Shout if anything happens."

The archer nodded once. Wil then proceeded to move to the fort's crumbling doorway, peer through the entrance, and then slip out into the night. His goal was to protect the Sacean, all the while without being seen. It was well within his abilities.

Kent watched the archer go, and felt his conscious stab at him. For them to circumvent their Lady's wishes in such a way was dishonorable. And yet, his liege needed an escort of some kind, should she recognize the need or not. The tactician had formed a decent compromise, and so long as it worked all would be will. Still, there was the principle of the thing…

The red-armored cavalier's mental debate was pigeonholed as Sain made one of his grand announcements.

"Alas, how misfortune befalls us." The blond knight lamented. "To deny ones such as us the pleasure of Lyn's company, but to place it in the hands of one who must go unseen! It shatters the heart to think of poor Wil in the presence of such beauty but entirely unable respond to it."

Kent and Mark exchanged a long look and a mental sigh.

The red-haired cavalier noted that the campsite's current occupants numbered four: himself, Sain, Mark and Florina. Mark was, as on previous occasions, busying himself with the evening meal. Florina was tending to her pegasus, something that the Illian appeared to occupy the bulk of her time with. Sain was the only other member of the Legion present without a job. Kent decided that he had better intervene sooner as opposed to later, lest the previous night repeat itself.

"Sain, Lady Lyndis has entrusted the defense of our camp to our care. We had best tour the layout and learn what points of he castle will need defending."

The green-armored cavalier turned the matter over in his mind and then slowly nodded his agreement.

"I could never forgive myself should my negligence result in harm to the beauties who inhabit these walls. Let us be off!"

Kent was momentarily taken aback by this. This was counter to Sain's normal behavior as the cavalier would usually fight tooth and nail in order to stay by a woman's side. For him to just give in like this was… unsettling. Still, the red-haired man decided, to borrow a phrase it was always better not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Mark gave the plan his silent approval. In the event that something did happen, then he would need to know everything possible about this place. Kent could be trusted to map out the fortress and give him an accurate report upon the knight's return.

The tactician turned about, and then managed to catch his jaw before it fell open. A familiar serpentine tail was protruding from one of their many packs; a tail which was flicking slowly back and forth.

The raven-haired mage shook his head in mild amusement. The tactician then rushed in and with a quick flick of his wrist, threw the pack open. A squawk of pained innocence filled the air. Mark took no notice of it and gave voice to his disapproval.

"You. Out."

Another offended squawk came from Romeo as the winged serpent climbed free of the cloth sack. The wyvern gave his offending partner a look of pure innocence and received an accusing glare. With an indifferent toss of his head, Romeo pumped his wings and shot into the sky.

"Someone remind me to muzzle him in the near future." The tactician sighed wearily.

The black-haired man set about making sure that all of the troop's supplies were unharmed (fortunately they had escaped Romeo's attack unscathed, a fact that was well nigh to miraculous) and then set about preparing the evening meal. Mark's mind worked furiously in tandem with his hands. Walls were being raised and lines were being drawn throughout the company, and that worried him.

True, he and Sain were working to overcome their little… incident… But what had just happened between Kent and Lyn had just fractured their party down the center. A rift was developing between Kent, San, Lyn and himself. Florina would probably stand by Lyn if the Sacean's sudden withdrawal from everyone else continued, while Kent and Sain would fall back on each other. Wil was caught both in the middle and in the dark about their overarching goals, so he would probably be left in no man's land as far as everyone else was concerned.

They needed something to restore unity to their group- and quick. Because a fractured army was no army.

The tactician halted his train of thought and shook his head in an effort to clear it. There would be time enough to worry about that later. He could work on restoring some semblance to the Legion when everyone assembled for dinner (although Mark was forced to admit that he had no idea how to go about doing so). But to do that he would need a clear head, and running the same thoughts through his mind time after time was bound to muddle it.

Mark focused his attention on preparing the evening meal. At least this was a problem that he could handle for certain.

* * *

"Kent, if I may be so bold," The green-armored knight paused alongside his companion. "I have some advice of which to share with you."

Kent stopped his examination of the fortress' walls and turned an ever-so-slightly quizzical eye to his friend. The motion in and of itself was enough permission to continue, so Sain did.

"Stop thinking about it." The blond man said simply.

"Stop thinking about… what?"

"Kent, you wound me!" Sain shook his head in mock exasperation. "Am not I your boon companion? Should anyone know what dignified thoughts fancy through your mind it would be me. You're starting to analyze your performance back there, and trying to establish what it was that yielded such unsatisfactory results."

The red cavalier promptly turned his attention back to the castle, and noted with some dissatisfaction that a fairly large fissure ran through the center of the retaining wall. He would have to make note of that, for with a little work the entire structure could crumble into nothingness.

"My intentions were honorable, Sain. I was not… pursuing Lady Lyndis."

"Again, you wound me, Kent! I will admit that I entertained the possibility at the time… But no matter. You've too much dignity and honor in your mind for there to room for so much as one lewd thought within your brain. You were strictly concerned with Lady Lyndis' wellbeing, well and good.

"But to go back to my original point, you need to stop thinking about what just happened. Preferably before it consumes you. You did your best to safeguard her, and things didn't work out. Now its time to move on. Obsessing about it will only frustrate you in the future."

The red-haired cavalier frowned as he considered this advice. As he did so, Kent resumed his inspection of the castle grounds. Sain made sure to stay abreast of the knight.

With a barely audible sigh, Kent was forced to admit that his companion was right. He had been replaying the events of the day, looking for ways to improve them and how he might have conducted himself better. Was there any way he could have affected the events of Sandor? Would Lyndis have agreed to allow herself an escort if he'd approached her in a different way?

The cavalier forced such thoughts from his mind. Sain had a point. Worrying over them would not change the day's events, it was a misdirection of his time and energy.

"I see, Sain… I will take your advice."

"Excellent! Now, allow me to give you some pointers, so that if you ever do wish to escort such a noble woman in some romantic endeavor, you will be able to sweep her off of her feet."

Kent returned to ignoring his companion.

* * *

Lyn was frustrated.

For as long as the green-haired Sacean could remember, the evening walk had been something of a nightly ritual with her family. It was not uncommon for Hasser and Madelyn to take her out from the camp off on an evening stroll. These times had always meant a lot to her, as it had been during them that Hasser and Madelyn had referred to her as 'Lyndis' instead of the usual 'Lyn'; she had received her mother's pendant; and talked with her parents about everything.

After her tribe's… extinction… Lyn had continued the tradition, even though she had no one to share it with. For several months she had walked alone. Then everything had changed. She now had others who cared for her, she had a family again… a family of one that she knew nothing about. It would be difficult in the future, not to mention awkward, because she would have to learn to love again. She instinctively loved her grandfather for who he was, her grandfather, but to love him as a person, that was another matter. Could she actually do so?

And then there was the matter of avenging her tribe. She had slipped. The plainswoman had been so overjoyed at reuniting with Florina that she had banished all thoughts of bandits from her mind. She had erred. It wasn't until they had visited Sandor that Lyn had been reminded of the bandit threat that once more she had been able to hear her tribe's calls for vengeance.

Lyn frowned. She had no right to forget the crimes committed against her people. She would have to keep them in mind, and continually work towards that goal. Considering Kent's fear of bandits, the Sacean almost wished that a bandit would show up, that way the plainswoman could strike him down and tell herself that she was doing something to bring justice to her tribe.  
_  
"Anyone can reach that point where they do not feel, and when they do, they think nothing of killing anymore."  
_  
Mark's words leapt to the Sacean's mind, causing her to hesitate. A new side to her desires had just been revealed. Did she actually want someone to show up just so that she could kill them?  
_  
--But… I… I just want to avenge my tribe… don't I?-- The Lorcan frowned. --But… does that make it right for me to… desire their presence simply so I can destroy them? Is that what revenge is?--_

A sharp cry interrupted the plainswoman's thoughts. The green-haired woman snapped about, one hand flying to her blade in preparation to mount a defense. The action turned out to be unwarranted, as no one was around.

Lyn frowned as she surveyed the land. Aside from the grove of trees that ringed the castle, there was nothing about.

The cry reached her ears again. This time the Sacean was able to discern it to be a call for help. The green-haired plainswoman hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was some form of a trick, then moved to follow the voice back to its source.

The search actually turned out to be fairly short. The object of Lyn's search was definitely not trying to remain hidden, but desperately wishing to be found. With a little effort, the Sacean uncovered a young, blond woman who had collapsed in the underbrush.

The young woman's eyes widened as she spotted Lyn approaching. Immediately, the blond unleashed a long string of words; words that the Sacean could not comprehend.

Lyn shook her head, telling her companion that she had no idea what was being said. The plainswoman responded in the Sacean tongue, and when that failed she tried Standard.

The blond woman shook her head. She could not understand either language. She pointed to her left leg and shook her head to the negative.

The green-haired plainswoman noted the crude crutch that had fallen beside the woman and fit the scenario together. The woman probably had some sort of injury to her leg, necessitating the use of the crutch. Something must have happened to cause her to fall, and aggravate the wound. If she had not risen by now, then the adds were that the blond woman could not.

_--What I wouldn't give to have Mark here.--_  
_  
"Can you move?"_ Despite the fact that Lyn knew the question to be unanswerable, she felt compelled to keep speaking. The more the plainswoman tried to interact with the blond woman, the less threatened the injured lady would feel.

A blank look was the only answer that the Sacean received.

Lyn felt herself at an impasse. The two were completely unable to understand other. The Sacean decided to try a different approach and mime her actions as she spoke, hoping that the blonde would understand.  
_  
"If I help you up. Can you walk?"_ Lyn pointed her self, then at the injured girl. She followed those actions by pretending to support another's weight.

The blond-haired girl shrugged weakly, and then tried to stand. A pained expression passed over her features as the woman tried to use her left leg, the be appendage buckled beneath her weight.

Lyn darted forward and caught the woman before she fell over completely. Instinctively, Lyn hooked the other woman's arm over her shoulder, and acted to shore up the blonde's injured limb.

The girl looked to the plainswoman and nodded slowly, indicating that she could travel with such an arrangement. The Sacean returned the sentiment, and together they began to limp their way back to the fort.

Deep within the underbrush, a pair of eyes peered out at the two women. The eyes were framed by a shock of red hair and the determined gaze of the Legion's sniping archer.

Wil peered out from between the tree branches and shook his head. He had a bad feeling about this.

The archer moved to follow the two, and maintained a discreet distance all the way back to the ruined castle.

* * *

"MARK!" Lyn shouted as she helped the injured woman through the doorway. The Sacean's eyes darted about, searching for the tactician. "Mark, I need you now!"

The raven-haired man appeared by his side with questions in his eyes.

"Find out what's wrong with her."

The tactician nodded his understanding. Mark then turned to the blond woman and rattled off a long line in Bernese. The woman looked shocked for a moment, then responded in kind.

Kent and Sain came racing into the room and quickly scanned over its occupants. The two relaxed slightly as they realized that there was no immediate threat to the company.

Mark and the woman concluded their conversation, and then the tactician turned his attention back to everyone else. Immediately, the man entered his role as a strategist and coordinator by handing out assignments.

"Everyone, I need your help. Lyn, Florina, get Natalie over to the fire so that she can stretch that leg out. Kent, there's some bandages in my pack, get them out."

The company came together and hurried to comply with their orders. Kent began rummaging through their supplies for the required items, upon finding them the cavalier rushed back to the others. Sain took the initiative to spread some blankets on the ground for the woman while Florina rushed to Lyn's side and helped the woman to get settled.

"Lyn, Florina, I'll need your help with this." Mark dropped to one knee behind the Sacean and her Illian friend. The tactician pointed to a large pot that was warming over the fire and changed his train of thought. "There's a large cloth in with the bandages, dunk it in that!"

Kent hastened to comply and then handed the bandages to Lyn.

"Alright, here we go." The tactician took note of the pain that raced over Natalie's face and spurred the others on. "Lyn, I don't know how much you know of medicines, but if you can prepare anything that will dull or remove pain we could use it. I'm at a loss to suggest what, medicine is not something I've ever studied."

The Sacean went to work with the practiced determination of someone who knew what they were doing.

"I have a few ideas… I'll come up with something." Lyn explained.

"Good. Florina-" Mark was taken aback as he noticed that the Illian was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. The tactician took a split-second to chide himself for pushing Florina as he had and then tried to repair the damage done.

"Florina, listen to me, you can do this; you need to be strong for Natalie's sake. You can help this attack to pass, but you have to steady yourself, alright? Lyn can take over as soon as she finishes working that concoction, but for now I need you to fill in."

The lavender-haired girl nodded slowly, then took a breath to calm herself. Although a tremor still appeared in the pegasus knight's arms she was much more in control of herself than she had been previously. Florina took another breath and nodded.

"A… alright. Alright, I can do this."

"That's right, I know you can. Now, I need you to straighten her leg so that it's not folded or crooked. It's trying to double up and paralyze right now and we can't afford that. Steady… now!"

Florina bit her lip as she forced herself to comply with the order. The pegasus knight straightened the injured limb. A pained cry erupted from the blond girl's lips- a cry that almost brought the Illian herself to tears. But the lavender-haired girl pushed through it and forced herself to hold the crooked limb in position.

"Lyn!"

"I'm here." The Sacean rushed back to the others with a poultice and the water-soaked sheet in hand.

"Good, apply that around her calf. Kent, those bandages!"

The red-haired cavalier pulled the bandages from the kettle and then surrendered the cloth strips to his liege. The plainswoman immediately snapped them up and began to use the bandages to secure the medicinal concoction to the woman's leg. A few moments passed as the woman worked, and gradually Natalie's cries lessened.

Finally, Lyn moved back from her task and proclaimed the job done. The Legion breathed a collective sigh of relief as the last traces of pain left the blond woman's face.

For a long moment everyone was still as they recovered from the burst of activity.

At length, Kent spoke up.

"Mark… how did you know that would work?"

"I didn't." The tactician shrugged awkwardly. "She told me that it would. Natalie's been struggling against this affliction since she was a child, and has used this temporary cure many times in the past. The roots acted to dull the pain of the contraction, while the soaked rags served to relax the muscles… Speaking of which…"

The raven-haired man turned his attention back to Natalie and began conducting more dialogue. The two traded sentences and explanations for several long minutes. Upon concluding the exchange, Mark turned back to his companions.

"Her name's Natalie… She's a resident of Sandor. From what I gather, her husband left the town a few weeks ago looking for work. She's been worried about him since. When she heard that we had visited, she came after us in hopes that we would have seen him on our travels."

"She came all this way for her husband?" Sain marveled at the woman's dedication. "That is amazing!"

"She did and it is." Mark confirmed. "Her husband's a solidly built man with dark hair who answers to the name of Dorcas."

The Legion exchanged brief looks amongst themselves. Each one was trying to remember if they had encountered such a person on the road from Sacea, and each one was confessed to answer that they had not.

Mark nodded and relayed this information back to Natalie, whose expression fell at the news. The blond girl was quiet for a moment and then began to apologize for acting so foolishly.

The tactician relayed the words and then translated his companion's sympathy for their inability to help (after he removed Sain's speech about the purity and beauty of Natalie's love for her husband). He then proceeded to translate Lyn's statement that they would be glad to escort her safely back to Sandor.

After having been absent for so long, Wil rushed into the fortress just in time to hear the end of that statement. The archer shook his head and proceeded to interrupt the proceedings.

"We've got trouble! Bandits are moving in from the south!"

"What!? They would attack now of all times!" Sain exclaimed in dismay.

Kent shot a gaze to the setting sun and felt his heart drop to the level of his knees. The red-haired cavalier frowned as he realized that they had another hour of daylight- if that. Before too much longer, night would claim them and provide the bandits with the perfect advantage to use against them.

Mark's mind began working furiously.

"Kent, I need to know about the fort, what weak points are we facing?"

"Most of the structure is still solid, and the walls high enough to discourage climbers." The cavalier hastened to explain what he had learned. "But there's one wall that is dangerously close to collapsing on the western side. There's also a small door on the east."

"… Not good. There's too many weak points and too few of us to adequately defend them. And we don't dare risk taking the fight to them while Natalie's incapacitated… We'll have to hold them off here… at least temporarily…"

Lyn saw a glint, a spark of inspiration in their tactician's eyes. Immediately, a sense of déjà vu descended upon the Sacean.

"You have a plan?"

"The beginnings of one." Mark looked up to find a squad of bandits descending upon the main entrance. The raven-haired man threw a hand up and pointed to the doorway. "Kent, Lyn, block that entrance! Sain, take the east entrance. Florina get airborne, support Sain. Wil, you're with me for the moment. Move!"

It was the best that the tactician could do on the spur of the moment and without any proper time to plan. Kent and Sain were both seasoned in combat and war; currently their skills far eclipsed Lyn or Florina's abilities. Hopefully, the cavalier's strengths could overcome the other's weaknesses for the moment.

Immediately, the party broke up to fulfill the orders. Kent and Sain opted to neglect their mounts; the horse's advantage was in their mobility and without the ability to move freely, the horses would be of more liability than advantage. The two knights went their separate ways and rushed to their posts.

Lyn raced to the front entrance and unsheathed her blade. Confused anger was flaring through her every nerve. On one hand, she was trying to feel relieved that she was doing something to fulfill her oath of revenge; on the other she was struggling to find some measure of confidence that she was not becoming like those she was fighting. Her earlier thoughts were unnerving her.

Wil followed Mark as the tactician moved to intercept Florina. The pegasus knight was fumbling with her horse's tether and losing what little courage she had. The raven-haired man stopped at a safe distance from the lavender-haired girl and decided to provide some more encouragement.

"Florina, don't let the fact that you're with Sain get to you. You'll be in the skies while he's on the ground- you won't have to talk to him if you don't want to. Listen to me, you'll be alright and we'll get through this. Don't attack unless you have an opening and don't feel like you have do any heroics, we're fighting to buy time now not to route them, alright?"

"A… alright… I'll do my best." The Illian did her best to put on a brave front. The woman then mounted her winged horse and shot into the skies.  
_  
"Mark… wh- what's going on?"_

The tactician paused as Natalie's voice broke into his thoughts. The raven-haired man paused for a moment and then made a reply.  
_  
"Bandits are attacking us. Don't worry, though. Lyndis' Legion is more than capable of handling them. We haven't lost a member yet, and we don't intend to start now."_

Natalie nodded and remained silent.

The raven-haired tactician turned and pointed to the stone partitions that rose up around the Legion.

"Alright, Wil, you're going to get to the top of that retaining wall. Circle about and help Sain and Florina, then check in on Kent and Lyn when you've got a moment."

The archer looked from the tactician to the wall and back again. After considering this order, the red-haired sniper fixed the tactician with a look that clearly indicated that he believed Mark to have finally lost all touch with reality.

"And… how do I do that?" Wil asked blankly. "Last I checked, this place doesn't come with staircases."

"Leave that to me."

Mark reached under his robes and produced a thick, leather-bound book. The tactician studied the pages, deciphered the ancient texts, and then put the spell in motion. Mark spun 'round, thrust one hand out to the far wall, clenched his fist and then pulled at some imaginary object.

In response to these gestures, the shadows that fell from the mossy structure shifted and wormed their way together. The mass of darkness congealed into a shadowy, gentle ramp that extended from the top of the wall and ran down to rest at Wil's feet.

The archer jumped back in surprise and looked at the slope in bewilderment.

"Go!" Mark shouted between pants for breath. "Just run up it!"

Tentatively, Wil stepped onto the slope of darkness. When the shadows did the impossible and actually supported his weight, the archer grew bolder and raced up the impromptu staircase. The archer leapt up onto the top of the wall, and only then did the tactician allow the barrier to vanish.

Mark involuntarily doubled over as he gasped for breath. He was an Elder Mage, true, but his skills had always been very limited. Even the simple process of maintaining the barrier-turned-staircase was enough to exhaust him. If he ever had to use them in prolonged combat…

"You alright?" Wil shouted down to the tactician.

"I'm… fine!" The tactician forced himself to stand upright and look at the archer. "Just watch out for other archers and anyone with a hand axe! You're in a prime position to attack, but not without risk- you don't have anywhere to go if you get in trouble."

"Don't worry! They'll never know what hit 'em!"

"I hope so."

Mark became aware that Natalie was staring at him in fascinated horror. The tactician shrugged, excused himself, and then rushed away. The raven-haired tactician cast his gaze skyward, and noted with some dissatisfaction the loops that his wyvern was performing.  
_  
--Not good… really not good… According to Romeo they've got the numbers of a small battalion. We don't have the strength to stave them off for long… I really hope this works…--  
_

* * *

"The beauty of my Lady inspires me! Your attacks are in vain, for I shall never yield!"

Three bandits leapt into view and came charging at the green-armored knight. Sain dropped into a lower stance and readied himself for combat.

The incoming threat was lessened as Florina, atop Huey, descended from the skies with a javelin in hand. The pegasus knight's arm swept through the air and discharged her projectile, and the throwing lance collided solidly with the lead thug. Seeing that their run had been successful, Huey turned and bolted back into the sky, carrying his rider to safety.

A cry erupted from the impaled bandit as he collapsed to the ground. The shout provided a momentary distraction, causing the other two brigades to lose their focus for one crucial moment. That was all that was needed for Wil to arrive on the scene, notch an arrow and release his bowstring. Another sword-wielder dropped to the ground.

Not to be outdone, the blond cavalier bolted from the doorway and charged at the remaining brigade. The thief, looking up to find himself under attack, frantically brought his weapon up and struck at his attacker. Sain's response was merely to twirl his lance about and crack the blunt end sharply against the brigade's temple. Without missing a beat, the knight spun his weapon and struck his foe down.

Sain quickly retreated back to his post as another wave of bandits poured from the forest.

The blond cavalier frowned. The attacking bandits were being directed by a semi-capable leader, but were still very haphazard with their execution. Rather than just sweeping in and overwhelming them, the brigade was content to hurl wave after wave of soldiers at them. Clearly, the bandits were intending on wearing them down gradually.

The Caelin knight dropped that train of thought as a small axe flew through the air to imbed it's wide head firmly into the masonry. The projectile had barely missed clipping Sain's shoulder, but came close enough to bring the cavalier back to the battle. The blond man looked up to find a quartet of thieves charging at him.

An arrow flew through the air and pierced the axe-wielding bandit. A javelin dropped from the heavens and dispatched an archer.

Sain flourished his lance, blocked a wide blow from a blade, thrust his weapon to the side to stifle his enemy's flanking maneuver, and then brought the blade of his weapon around to cut down both of his attackers.

The cavalier's blood began to boil as the scene played itself out again. His Lady Lyndis was merely trying to reunite with her grandfather, Natalie was searching for her husband, Florina should not be forced to endure such gore. But these… creatures… these foul beings were determined to throw all codes of honor from their presence and to bring ruin to his lady's lives just to fulfill their own base desires. It was abominable.

Sain was careful to keep his sudden anger in check and under control. He refused to give in and allow his emotions to cloud his actions, as that would get him killed. The idea that these men were free to do what they pleased without reprisal violated every principle and code he believed in and was enough to upset him greatly.

"You think yourselves men? I beg to differ!" Sain seethed as another bandit penetrated Wil and Florina's defense line.

The bandit screamed an oath as he leapt up, produced an axe and descended with the intent of splitting the cavalier open.

The curved line of the axe's blade crashed into the rigid defense of a sword. Sain pushed back with all of his strength and knocked the weapon away. The blond man went into a quick spin and then thrust his blade forward to end the duel.

"You are cowards and snakes, the lot of you! One day Lady Lyn will return to the plains to cleanse them from your vile presence." Sain's mind darted back to the Sacean's earlier declaration. "And on this day, I declare that I, Sain of Caelin, will be by her side!"

A shout went up from the forest as another line of bandits emerged from the trees.

Sain sheathed his sword and twirled his lance, not in some attempt to look heroic, but in preparation to attack.

* * *

Lyn was quickly discovering that she disliked being on the defensive. She was forced to stay in one place, to bar anyone entrance to the castle, and as such had her movement restricted. The Sacean was discovering it to be far more difficult to fight when her movements were so limited.

The green-haired plainswoman darted to one side, allowing an axe to sail harmlessly through the air. Lyn then slipped back to her position before the doorway and drove her blade into the attacking bandit. The moment that the thieving man fell, another leapt forward to take his place.

The plainswoman readied herself to block his blow, but was interrupted as Kent stepped into the fray. The red-haired cavalier deftly placed himself between his liege and the sword-swinging bandit and struck with the speed of a viper. The cavalier's weapon rang through and ended the threat to his charge.

Lyn frowned as she watched the display, again feeling some vestiges of annoyance. But the woman was forced to thrust the emotion aside as she moved to intercept an axe-man who was trying to sneak into the fortress behind Kent's back. The Sacean dispatched the vermin without difficulty.

It was, the Sacean decided, fortunate that bandits, as a rule, were thoroughly untrained. Usually a cluster of aspiring fighters would gather around a man with a little experience and form a brigade of thugs to prey upon others. Lyn was grateful that her limited skills with the sword gave her a much needed edge over the unrefined techniques of the bandits and were keeping her safe.

The Sacean looked up as another thug rose to challenger her, but again Kent interrupted the exchange. The cavalier was moving back and forth like a roaming lion, striking out at anyone who approached. Lyn adapted to this and took on the role of a wildcard. The plainswoman was forced to content herself with halting those who did manage to bypass Kent's attacks and then performing quick hit-and-run attacks on those attempting to ambush the cavalier.

Kent was thoroughly unhappy with the situation. He wanted nothing more than to remove Lyn from this situation and to get her to a much safer place within the castle walls. However, the red-haired knight was forced to admit that such an action was entirely unfeasible as the two needed to work together to fulfill a job that the other lacked. He was doing all that he could, but Kent was unable to stop every bandit in the sea of attackers. Every few blows one would attempt to circle about and get into the castle walls, only to receive a swift end at Lyn's sword.

The cavalier fought back, blocking blows, parrying strikes and stabbing into any target that presented itself. Most of the bandits fell back upon being wounded, only to surge forward again when the odds looked to be in their favor. The result was a sort of ebb-and-flow to the battle, as the bandits would attack all at once, fall back to lick their wounds for a few precious seconds and then attack anew.

The red-haired cavalier focused his mind on the battle and fought with every muster of strength he possessed. His job, his aim, his duty, was to see Lyn safely to Marquess Hausen; anything less than that was unacceptable. He could not falter here.

* * *

Florina felt the rush of hair through her lavender locks as she and her mount dropped to the earth below. The Illian was fighting two battles at once, the first to conquer her trembling body and the second to stop the bandit attack.

The ground rushed up to meet the pegasus and his knight. Florina's eyes locked onto the first bandit that presented himself. She forced herself to think of him not as a person, but as an obstacle. If she considered him as a human being there was no way she could participate in this battle.

The lavender-haired knight rose in her saddle and snapped her spear forward with deadly accuracy. The projectile struck its target and the bandit dropped to the ground. Florina struggled to maintain her grip on the lance and not to have it torn from her ringers as they passed the thief by.

Huey flapped his mighty wings and broke free of gravity's deadly embrace. The pegasus turned to the skies and Florina experienced the familiar pull on her limbs and intestines as the earth below fought to keep her grounded. It was a battle that was always lost, but fought every time.

Florina's mind revolted at the thought of ending a life, but her heart told her there was no other choice. She had longed to follow in her sister's footsteps and become a full pegasus knight. Her battles would bring money to her starving homeland and allow her friends and family to live another day. But moreso than that, Natalie would be protected by her actions. If those bandits caught her, there was no telling what would happen.

The lavender-haired Illian found that reserve of inner strength that she needed. Natalie would never fall into these bandit's clutches so long as she could fight. Florina readied her lance and instructed Huey to dive anew.

She had a friend to protect.

* * *

Mark burst into the side hallway and immediately noted the wall that Kent had informed him about earlier. The tactician looked over the structure and decided that it would do for his plans and purposes. He was beginning to receive a clearer picture of what his overall plan was, now all he had to do was fill in a few blanks and implement it.

And if it worked, their lives would be spared tonight.

**_End!_**


	5. Stones

A.N.: We're going to move the plot a long a little in this chapter; and then begin dealing with the fallout of this little two-part arc.

**Xyrisa,** I'm glad you enjoyed it.

**Kray Torishi, **Well, I'm glad that you've liked it thus far, and hopefully this chapter will live up to your expectations.

**BlackHole CO,** Thanks, I appreciate that. Actually, I love FE so much because of the characters and their interactions. I'm sad to say it, but I would play FE just for the story and supports, the gameplay doesn't even matter to me. So that's actually where my focus tends to be when it comes to the game.

**Ketchupthepony, **A very valid point. You're right, I'll try to rectify that error in the next chapter or so.

**Diaz Rivaut,** Another valid point. Granted, it just simply is not possible to spread equal focus across all of the game characters. Well, it is but who would want to ready a hundred page chapter detailing all of that? So I'm going to be confining my focus to a select few of the game characters and continue to delve into their mindset throughout the events of the game. Other characters will come and go depending upon the situation.

And a massive thanks to **Kitten Kisses** for the insightful review, and for pushing me beyond my current writing plateau.

_**Begin!**_

_To this day I am still amazed that my insane plan worked. By all rights it should have backfired upon us. I suppose the fact that it did succeed goes to prove bandit stupidity. Mercifully, I learned much from that encounter; such as the fact that unorthodoxy has its place, but is not always merited._

_-- Mark, Wraith of the Lorca._

* * *

Erk was having a very bad day.

The mage did his best not to wince as that banshee in cleric's robes turned her gaze on him, smoothed out her pink tresses and launched into a tirade of words and opinions.

"Can you believe the state of that last inn? I'm surprised that heinous man is still in business if he treats all of his customers like that! All I did was try to help the poor man out, and in return he tells me to shut up and then orders me out of his sight- and he didn't even refund our money!"

"It was horrible, wasn't it?" Erk replied automatically and without full comprehension.

The purple-haired mage continued walking down the forest trail as he ignored the non-stop stream of chatter being directed at him. He considered it to be some form of progress that he had learned to ancient art of attention-oriented-ignorance. Over the past week, Erk had developed the ability to tune out the cleric but still respond in all the key places. The end result was that the mage was spared listening to the non-stop rambling, while the cleric was none the wiser.

"That it was- just the way that he looked at me! He should know better than that, especially when he's in the presence of a lady, such as myself, of the church. It was just so embarrassing, flattering, but embarrassing."

"Of course, Lady Serra."

By now, Erk was beginning to wonder just how much a person's mental facilities could take before snapping completely. The screeching noise of his client continued to assault his ears despite his best efforts to ignore it. No matter what he did, Serra would inevitably find some way to penetrate his defenses. Erk had always delighted in the quiet halls of his study; for him to be stranded out in the middle of nowhere with a banshee-turned-cleric that could not understand the concept of silence was nothing less than torture.

A sharp pain flooded the back of the mage's skull, bringing him back to the present. The man winced and rubbed at the source of his discomfort; Erk glanced about and realized that Serra was studying him critically. She was also tapping the jeweled point of her stave against her left hand.

"Well?" The cleric demanded. "What are you going to do about it?"

With a sense of dread, the robed magician realized that he had slipped enough for Serra to catch on to his act. The end result had been the introduction of her stave to the back of the his head.

Erk swallowed his annoyance and framed a response.

"Do about... what?"

"So, you weren't playing any attention to me! Don't you know how rude that is, Erky? And you're my escort! I'm supposed to be able to depend on you for these things... but don't worry, I'll forgive you. That's just the kind of generous person I am."

"I... uh... thank you... But what was it you wanted me to do?"

"Oh, yes... that." Serra tossed her pink locks aside and looked to the sky. "I've noticed that its getting dark, shouldn't you start working to find us some shelter? And remember, that we have to spend the night in a village inn; I refuse to have my startling beauty compromised by sleeping outside or on the ground."

The purple-haired mage quelled the urge to point out that they had _had_ a place to stay for the night, but had lost their room due to the fact that a certain cleric couldn't leave well enough alone but just _had_ to point out certain facts about the innkeeper's daughter that were, most decidedly, no one's fault.

Instead the silent student bowed to the raging force that was Serra and explained that he would do his best to ascend to her wishes.

"There should be another village... Sandor... I believe... about an hour's walk to the northeast."

Serra accepted this and launched into her opinions regarding some other unrelated subject.

Erk sighed and shook his head anew.

This was definitely a bad day.

* * *

Kent's sword lashed out to cut down an approaching brigade. The knight then whipped about to dodge a blow from an incoming axe and then retaliated.

Lyn darted to her right, blade poised and ready for attack. The Sacean plainswoman's weapon wove around her opponent's defenses and made short work of the bandit; she then turned and prepared for her next assault.

The bellow of a ram's horn filled the air. In response, the bandits began to form an organized retreat. Lyn and Kent watched warily and with a small amount of confusion as the brigade pulled back and moved into the tree-line. The two exchanged a bewildered look, each one hoping that the other had an explanation for what had just happened.

None was forthcoming.

The green-haired Sacean struggled to control her ragged breathing as she sheathed her blade. She then pushed a few strands of hair from her eyes and questioned the obvious.

"They're... retreating?"

"Possibly." Kent replied as he kept his eyes trained on the horizon. "They had the upper hand but they pulled back, this may be a trick to get us to drop our guard."

Lyn frowned as she considered this idea. It made a certain amount of sense.

The tactician's voice split the air: "I have to agree."

Mark emerged from the left corridor with Sain and Florina in tow. Wil scrambled across the top of the ruined wall until he could join the others with a cheerful grin on his features; upon reaching his companions the auburn-haired archer dropped to his seat and dangled both legs over the edge of his perch. Clearly, the sniper was enjoying his position.

Sain, amidst hard breaths, paused to regain control of his facilities and to straighten his bandanna. The Green Lance smiled lazily and then performed an exaggerated stretch to loosen his weary muscles.

"The cowards fled before us," The cavalier commented as mirth danced in his eyes. "for our combined strength was more than a match for them."

Kent nodded, but made no reply.

"You all did well, but our fight isn't over yet." The raven-haired tactician spoke as he glanced skyward to check up on his wyvern. The winged serpent was stretched out atop the outside retaining wall and smirking at the inhabitants. "The bandits weren't serious about that attack, they were just judging our strength."

"Now that they know our numbers and our forces, they can develop a detailed strategy to attack us. In a little while, they'll also have the advantage of darkness on their side." Kent noted.

"Exactly." Mark allowed himself a small sigh. The man from Bern opened his mouth to continue his thought, but jerked in surprise when soft female tones entered the conversation in place of his usual voice.

The Legion turned to find Natalie standing behind them. The woman was panting from exertion and leaning heavily against what remained of the fortress' inner doorway. The Bernese woman looked over her impromptu protectors and gave voice to a questioning phrase.

Lyn had started to step towards the injured woman, but paused and looked to her tactician for an explanation.

Mark formed a response, forcing the rest of the company to wait as the conversation played itself out. After exchanging a few more lines, the raven-haired man cast a quick glance at the Sacean and nodded for her to continue as he explained the recent dialogue.

"Natalie wants you all to know that she appreciates our efforts to protect her and that the attack is starting to pass. She thinks she'll be able to travel again in a few minutes."

Although she knew it to be incomprehensible to the other, the green-haired plainswoman smiled warmly and provided a Sacean phrase of encouragement. Natalie nodded and smiled in return, showing that the meaning was understood if not the actual words.

"Ah, but how could we do less! The love between her and her husband was an inspiration to us all, and gave us the strength needed to fight for her safety!"

Mark translated Sain's statement as a simple acknowledgment and appreciation for the thanks.

Kent decided to bring the conversation back to its original topic.

"They'll come back, we haven't won yet."

"Point." The raven-haired tactician nodded. "I've been working on that; we definitely can't afford to wait them out. According to the numbers that Romeo indicates, then they could easily starve us out with a siege.

"We'll have to make a break for it at some point... I've been working on a strategy to allows us an attempt to escape since this all started, and for the most part I think I have a reasonable strategy. I'm just missing one crucial piece of the puzzle."

* * *

Migal spat on the ground, indicating his pleasured disgust of the situation. The solidly-built bandit glanced over his remaining forces and then back to the object of their mission. His prey was holed up like rats in a cage within that fortress. They were putting up a good fight to be sure, not that Migal minded at all- in his mind the harder the fight the richer their reward.

The dark-haired bandit turned the situation over in his mind, looking at it from all angles. Eventually, he decided on their next course of action and took steps to implement it.

"Heh, we've got 'em, that's certain; I just wonder if we can't speed their demise along... a little treachery never hurt anyone and could be a fine twist to this little battle."

Migal turned and pointed off into his horde of thieves.

"Where's the new man? Bring him here!"

The mass of brigands twisted like a thrashing serpent. The seas of people then parted, allowing a heavy-set man with dark hair to approach the bandit leader.

"I'm here." The man stated simply.

"Yeah, you are." The leader smirked. "It's time for you to earn your keep around here; you've been with us for a few weeks and haven't done much of anything. Because of that, we don't even know where your loyalties lie."

The heavy-set man remained silent, waiting for his employer to come to the point of his summons.

"So... You're going to take this cloth here, and head up to that fortress under the flag of truce." Migal swiped up the closest material within arm's reach and pitched it at the newcomer's face. "Tell 'em that Migal's offering a deal, they turn the two wenches over to us and I'll give them a cut of the profits. While you're there, scope out the situation and see if you find any weak points in their defenses. Got it?"

The man's arm snapped out, catching the towel before it struck his face. He then nodded to show his understanding, turned, and marched out of the forest.

"Are you sure that's wise, boss?" One of the bandits spoke up. "Sending the new guy off to do something like that?"

"'Course it is." The brigade leader smirked. "Nothings more expendable than new recruits. If they do him in, there'll be more for us in the long run."

* * *

"Hey, guys," Wil called down from his perch atop the fortress' outside wall. "You're never going to believe this. There's a bandit out there holding a dirty, white rag and coming this way."

The Lorcan looked absolutely bewildered at that statement. Confusion filled her features.

"A white cloth? Why would that matter?"

"It's a flag of truce. It means that he doesn't intended us harm." Kent explained.

The red-armored cavalier moved to bar the doorway. Just because this thief was approaching them under the guise of peace did not necessarily meant that that was his mission.

"What... uh... do you think that he wants?" Florina asked from her place behind her pegasus.

"After the thorough beating that we gave them, I'm sure that they want nothing less than to surrender." Sain, of course, had the more optimistic view of the situation.

"We'll know in a moment, he's almost here." The raven-haired tactician said.

Lyn moved to join Kent by the entrance, and frowned as the cavalier had moved forward half of a step to keep himself on the front lines. She didn't have time to raise a objection, for the approaching bandit had come within earshot.

"What do you want?" Kent hollered at the emissary, using the Standard tongue.

"I come to offer a proposal from Migal, Scourge of the East." The dark-haired man stated matter-of-factly. "The two women in your possession have contracts on their heads. Turn them over to us, and Migal will give you a cut of the profits."

Shock tore through the Legion like a thunderbolt through paper- not over the attempted bribe, but the news that someone wanted their compatriots dead. Each member blinked in surprise, and then turned to their neighbor for an explanation of this pronouncement.

None was forthcoming.

"Explain yourself, who would put a contract out on La-... our companions?" Kent recovered from his narrow slip and felt his expression darken considerably.

"I do not know who offers gold for the Sacean's head. But the Illian owes us her life, her pegasus crushed our former leader, Carjiga, near Bulgar. Migal demands her blood as payment."

Lyn and Sain whipped about to look for Florina. The lavender-haired Illian was gasping for breath as she took shelter behind her pegasus' wing. She was on the verge of tears upon discovering the aftermath of her accident, and the stares of her companions were not helping her to control her emotions.

"Florina..." The plainswoman began walking in her friend's direction. "is this true?"

A sob escaped the pegasus knight. Florina looked up, her eyes begging for Lyn's understanding.

"I... I don't know. It was foggy out... I was trying to find you... we set down near Bulgar... then.. then Huey hit something... I... I tried to find out what... I wanted to help... but... but they kept... cursing and shouting at me... I was scared... so I pulled away and fled. I didn't mean to... hurt anyone..."

"It's alright, don't worry." The Sacean laid a comforting arm about her companion's shoulder. The Illian immediately buried her face into Lyn's shoulder and allowed the pain to roll down her cheeks in tears.

"It wasn't your fault, clearly it was an accident." Lyn continued.

Mark frowned and hooked his right hand over his chin as he dropped off into his thoughts. Something within the story rang false to his ears... The tactician's train of thought was promptly derailed when a familiar voice entered the conversation.

"_Mark, you asked me to let you... know... when..."_

The raven-haired man looked up to find Natalie staring at the bandit as her voice trailed off in shocked amazement. The woman blinked twice as if willing the man to vanish, but it remained nonetheless. Her hand flew to her throat to contain a startled gasp.

"Do not fear!" Sain stepped forward and brandished his lance. "Lyndis' Legion will protect you from this vile brute!"

Natalie didn't even register the cavalier's presence. She spoke one simple word that needed no translation.

"_Dorcas..."_

As one, the company turned to look at the bandit. His general appearance fit the description that had been provided earlier. To see Dorcas standing before them, with his eyes wide and guilt written across his face, was a shock to say the least.

Sain was the first to break free of the stupor. Only one phrase came to mind that could aptly describe the situation.

"Oh... dear..."

"You mean to tell me," Lyn turned away from Florina as she tried to get a grasp on the situation. The woman's voice skyrocketed in anger. "that Natalie's husband, Dorcas, is one of the bandits we have been fighting!?"

A chocked gasp came from Florina, while Kent's eyes locked onto the fighter and studied him for any impending threats.

That simple statement was all that was needed for the full scope of the situation to come crashing down upon Natalie. The woman bit off a sob, then turned and fled back into the safety of the ruined castle.

Dorcas cried out and tried to rush after his wife, only to have Kent bar his way. The fighter looked over those assembled and begged enough understanding to allow him to pass. Mark overrode the cavalier's decision, allowing the husband to fly after his wife.

"I don't think he poses a threat to us right now, but just to be safe, I'll go talk to them." The tactician explained as he removed his restraining hand from the auburn-haired knight's shoulder. Mark then looked skyward and caught the archer's gaze. "Cover me."

Wil nodded and jumped to his feet.

The tactician sighed and moved to untangle this new mess that had been dropped in their laps. The others would help if they could, but since Natalie knew only the Bernese dialect there was little aid that they could offer.

Time wore away beneath the rapid discussion of the three citizens of Bern.

The sun had almost completely fallen entirely behind the horizon by the time Mark finished moderating things between Natalie and Dorcas. A familiar weariness was settling into the tactician's bones as he finally felt at ease with the situation. Mark left Dorcas and Natalie to finish their conversation and turned back to the Legion.

The man paused to survey their reactions and attitudes. Kent was wary, and being sure to keep a sharp eye on Dorcas; his attitude was more than matched by Lyn, who was standing with her arms folded and an angry expression on her face. Sain was neutral, his romantic ideals fighting with the reality of the situation that they faced. Florina was just looking nervous and scared, while Wil was still perched atop the castle wall looking uneasy.

Mark took a breath and then plunged into his explanation.

"First, let me say that I don't believe Dorcas poses a threat to us. If anything he's become more of an ally in recent moments."

The tactician noted Lyn's eyes hardening, and hastened to finish his tale.

"There's a surgeon who resides in Irne who has a cure for Natalie's affliction. Unfortunately, the cure is very costly, and requires several rare herbs and items. Dorcas left Sandor a few weeks back in an effort to find work and raise the needed funds to pay for the treatment. He looked, but came up empty. Then the Ganelon bandits overtook him and offered to, er, 'hire' him, promising a quick way to find the money he needed. This was his first job with them."

Immediately compassionate understanding became the attitude of the company... for the most part. Lyn was still struggling to see Dorcas as anything but the bandit he had first appeared as. To her mind, Dorcas had thrown away all of his honor and shown himself to be willing to harm others to further his aims. The Sacean had no guarantee that his heart had changed or was capable of changing.

The man in question looked up at the others as he continued to hold a sobbing Natalie in a strong embrace. Pain filled the fighter's eyes as he spoke in the standard tongue.

"I... am sorry. I've been a fool. All I wanted was for... my sweet Natalie to be free... I lost sight of what was truly important and that my gift would be meaningless if gotten dishonorably. I ask your forgiveness."

The plainswoman's heart softened, but was still held fast by a wall of suspicion.

"If you will have me, I will aid you in your fight. I must fix my mistake." Dorcas said solemnly.

Kent exchanged a quick look with Lyn. The cavalier of red gave a small nod to explain his thoughts; despite his earlier reservations he believed the man to be trustworthy. Lyn frowned, but returned the gesture.

Sain, fully aware of this exchange, stepped forward and allowed a smile to pass over his face.

"Ha, ha! We would be glad to have your strength among our numbers! The light of your love has prevented you from making a grave error, and whisked the darkness of confusion from your decisions. It is a beautiful thing, who can deny it? We would not dream of turning you away."

By now, Natalie had quieted and was looking at the green-armored cavalier curiously. She hadn't understood a word that was said, but the extravagance of the tone used had drawn her attention.

"What do you say?" Mark turned his attention to the others of the Legion.

Kent and Lyn voiced their hesitant approval. Sain's vote had already been cast. Florina explained that whatever the others decided on was fine with her, and Wil just grinned and quoted an old saying about bygones being bygones.

"Then its settled." The raven-haired tactician nodded and turned back to Dorcas. "Welcome to Lyndis' Legion."

Mark paused for a moment as his mind worked towards finishing his battle plan, and then a slow grin spread over his features.

"Actually, Dorcas, I think you're going to be invaluable to us. I've had this idea rattling about my skull for quite some time now, but have been at a loss about how to execute it. Your arrival has given us just what we need to escape and get Natalie back to Sandor.

"Everyone, listen up, we don't have any time to waste. Here's what we're going to do..."

* * *

"Bah, what be takin' that rat so long!" Migal seethed as he stormed about the brigade's makeshift campsite. "He should have been back by now."

The rest of the bandit force was wise enough to remain silent. Many of them had had the unfortunate experience of being on the receiving end of the stocky leader's wrath. Interrupting the man or attempting to provide advice was a certain death warrant.

The stocky man whirled about and set his eyes on the fortress that caged his prey. A look of anger was plastered across Migal's face. After a long moment, the bandit snatched up his axe and pointed it at the fortress.

"Alright, I've had enough waitin'! Gather your... well, what do y' know!"

Migal allowed his order to die off as the underbrush parted, allowing Dorcas to step into the camp. The silent fighter looked over the campsite and then locked his gaze upon the leader. A multitude of eyes stared at the newcomer in silent malice.

The bandit leader frowned.

"Well? What happened?"

Dorcas was silent for a moment; then he made his reply.

"They turned down your offer, but I have learned something of value."

Migal smiled a predator's grin and stepped closer to the informant. The stocky thief looked the fighter over and mused aloud.

"And what might that be? If you've learned 'something of value' then spit it out."

In response, the heavy-set man dropped to one knee and began tracing lines in the dirt. Within seconds a rough map of the abandoned castle had been established.

"I stayed behind to hear them planning. This door here..." Dorcas pointed from to the western opening. "is where the mage, archer and pegasus knight will concentrate. The two cavaliers will hold the other door. But there is a weak point in their defenses... this easter wall here is weak"

His widening eyes betraying his surprise, Migal whistled slowly. The bandit leader thumbed the edge of his axe as he considered this tidbit of information.

"I get ya. So, we punch a hold in that, grab the girls and flee." The stocky leader finished the battle plan. "Good work, Dorcas, you've delivered us quite the catch... But if things fail to play out as you're promisin', I'll take your head from your shoulders as payment, understand?"

Dorcas remained silent, but nodded slowly.

The bandit slammed his axe into the earth, narrowly missing his spy's hand and embedding the iron weapon along the left side of the makeshift map. "If we come in from the north, then the others will never see us approach, not even the archer since he's stuck on the southeastern corner of the place, and they'll never know we're there. We'll knock down that wall and storm 'em from behind, flushin' 'em right into the waiting arms of the rest of the company."

A devilish smile passed across the brigade's face, while his eyes narrowed.

"And we'll get enough gold to set ourselves for life."

In the cheers, shouts and hubbub that erupted following that announcement, no one saw Dorcas slip away from the rest of the brigade.

* * *

"Not that I am one to doubt your skills as a tactician, Mark," Kent frowned as he spoke. "but as a mason, your skills have not been proven."

Mark turned and looked over his hastily-constructed... thing... With the help of the Legion, the raven-haired tactician had removed two stone blocks from the crumbling wall and replaced them with thick, wooden beams that had been robbed from what remained of the tresses. In front of the crumbling wall, twin vertical posts had been driven into the ground to support a third, horizontal wooden plank. Thick ropes ran about the shunts, which resided in the wall, looped over the horizontal beam and tied off to a different horse's saddle.

"It doesn't look like much, I'll admit; but it'll work. The Etrurians use something like this in their demolition. The horses pull the ropes, the ropes pull the splints, and the wall topples... if Dorcas has done his job, then it'll crash right onto a certain brigade and leave us with a clear shot at Sandor."

After pausing in her efforts to help Natalie mount a horse, Lyn turned and looked the device over with a decidedly critical eye. Just what she thought of the entire set-up was clearly written on her face.

"Provided that he does not sell us out. He joined a bandit troop, surely he must feel some sympathy for their way of doing things and loyalty to their leader."

The Bernese tactician coughed as he saw that look, but then managed a reassuring grin.

"He'll come through." Mark's eyes lost some of his confidence as he turned back to the contraption. "And so will this."

Romeo unleashed a loud, warning squawk from his position atop the palace wall. Instantly, the Legion spun around to face the entrance and drew their weapons. By now, they had all come to learn that sound as a warning that someone was approaching.

Dorcas rounded the corner and came into sight.

The company breathed a collective sigh of relief. Their spy had returned unharmed and alive.

"How'd it go?" The raven-haired tactician asked.

Mark's decision to send Dorcas back to the camp alone to mislead the brigade had not been an easy one. The raven-haired man had agonized over whether another member of the Legion should accompany the fighter, both to make sure that they were not betrayed and to lend some credibility to the claim. Kent had been the first choice, but had been removed from consideration shortly thereafter; the role of a traitor would have gone against every instinct that the red cavalier had. Mark was afraid that Kent would be too conflicted to be convincing.

He had also considered sending in Wil, but Wil was a newcomer to the party, and entirely unable to influence its politics and decisions. This left him with little material with which to create a trap. The tactician didn't doubt Wil's integrity, but it paid to play things safe.

The decision had then come down to either Mark or Sain. While Mark was perfectly willing to act out the role of traitor, and considered himself the most expendable of the group, the tactician lacked any viable cover excuse to feed the bandits about why he had left the camp. Further, their opponent appeared to have some tactical skill (however minuscule), and might ask Mark to coordinate the legion's defeat in battle- that was a risk that he couldn't take. Sain was immediately removed from the running for fear that the Green Lance would overplay his role.

"It went well. The blackhearts believed everything that I told them. They're deploying now." The fighter shrugged. "They'll come in from the the north and then assemble on the other side of this wall."

Kent and Mark exchanged a quick look. A ghost of a smile appeared on the red cavalier's face, while a full-fledged smirk passed across the tactician's lips. The two had both realized that this situation meant that their gamble had paid off. Mark focused his attention on Romeo and then, through the use of hand motions, instructed the wyvern to take flight when their enemies arrived.

The wyvern squarbled and tossed his head lazily.

"We should mount up." Kent moved to his horse. "They'll be here shortly."

"Quite right. Let's ride."

Wil followed his earlier instructions and snatched up the four rope lines that hung from the vertical cross brace. The cheery archer waited for the party to mount and then tossed a line to each individual rider. Lyn, Kent, Sain and Mark caught their respective ropes and secured them to their horses.

From her position in front of Lyn, Natalie waited for the moment to come when they would make their escape. The woman's leg had relaxed enough for her to ride, but still pained her occasionally. She tried to ignore her injury, and focused on not falling from Lyn's saddle. The plainswoman gave her a reassuring smile, and kept one protective arm wrapped about her companion.

Mark helped Dorcas onto his mount, while Wil darted over and joined Sain atop his horse. Florina sat atop Huey to one side, fighting back tears and ready to flee with the others when the time came.

Silence descended upon the company as they waited to spring their trap.

Minutes ticked by.

Everyone was tense and ready to act.

The sound of rushing wings filled the air, Kent looked skyward to see a familiar wyvern taking flight. The cavalier dropped his gaze back to the earth and spurred his horse into action. The brigade was in place, and in range of their attack. His command came out a harsh whisper.

"Now!"

The four riders signaled their horses, and the equestrians began forcing their way forward. Each horse strained against its rope, pulling on it with all of its strength. Inch by painful inch, the creatures struggled forward, increasing the tension and force put on the thick twine.

For a long moment nothing happened.

Sain's line snapped under the pressure, causing his horse to stumble at his sudden release. Only the green cavalier's skill prevented himself and his archer companion from being thrown from their saddles. The other three mounts whinnied in complaint as their own workload increased.

_--Please let this work... PLEASE!--_ Mark begged.

And then, chaos answered him.

A deafening, rolling crash filled the air, followed quickly by a cloud of thick white dust and ash. The ruined wall leaned, tilted, and finally succumbed to the will of Lyndis' Legion and fell. Screams filled the air as stones and masonry came free of their long resting place to descend through the air and strike the assembled bandits- swifting burying them beneath the carved stones and ending the threat that they had possessed.

Silence came just as quickly as it had left.

Mark turned his horse about and eyed the devastation that had been caused. His heart plunged at the thought of so many lives having been taken, but there was little other choice they had in the matter.

Sain and Lyn were both stunned that the plan had worked, and come together at the last moment. A clear path had been created for them. A large hole had been created in the ruined wall, framed by the rubble that now littered the eastern side of the fortress, and provided their way of escape.

Florina was shocked at the sudden turn of the tide, while Wil just unleashed a wild, victorious 'whoop' and began explaining that he had never doubted their leadership for a second.

Kent brought the others back to reality.

"We should go." The auburn-haired knight commented.

That single statement was enough to spur the Legion into action. The troop forced their mounts into action, guided their horses through the rubble, and fled. They were determined to put as much distance between themselves and the rest of the brigade as possible in the short respite that had been offered them.

What little remained of the bandit forces slowly came out of the woodwork. Their attention was focused not on their fleeing prey, but on the devastation that had been brought onto their comrades. The bandit force gathered around the fallen stones that had buried Migal and his squad.

Anger swept over them.

One of the brigands snapped his axe up and thrust the weapon into the air. The thief shouted for the rest of his company's attention and pointed off in the direction that the Legion had taken. The survivors fixed the man with a sharp look.

"We're the Ganelon bandits!" The wiry man shouted at the top of his lungs. "Those whelps have killed two of our leaders and brought ruin to our name! Are we going to stand for it?"

A sharp roar split the air, robbing the impromptu leader the loud 'No!' he had been searching for. The bandits turned their eyes back to the collapsed wall, and watched in horrified fascination as events began to play out. The rubble shifted, and stones trembled beneath the force of something buried beneath.

Like the evil creatures of children's nursery stories that refused to die, masonry and stone fell aside as a large, stocky man exploded to the surface. The man was battered, bruised and bloody as he had survived the attack that had decimated his men. Had he not been on the outer edge of the collapsing wall, then the leader would have suffered the same fate as the rest of his men.

Migal's eyes swept over the survivor, putting his usurper in his place. The stocky thief staggered forward, but refused to allow others to aid him as his wounded pride flared.

"We're the Ganelon bandits, the scourge of these mountains!" Migal screamed in fury. "We are not going to let some pussyfoot female and a backstabbing knight ruin us! I say that we go after them, find them, and then fillet 'em alive!"

A sharp cheer rose up from the survivors. Given their leader's less-than-rational state, hardly a man would have dared to disagree with him.

"Then get after them!"

Migal snatched an axe from a dumbfounded thief and charged into the forest after the fleeing Legion. A sharp roar rose up about him as the rest of his company followed suite. The stocky brigade smiled. He was going to enjoy putting those nobles in their place.

* * *

Erk was most definitely having-

"What do you mean they won't allow us to stay here!"

- a very bad day.

The purple-haired mage turned his attention to the bossy cleric who insisted on making all things much more difficult than needed. Erk shook his head in order to buy himself a moment to collect what little patience he had left. He then turned from his conversation with the village leader to explain things to his employer.

"Serra, there is nothing that we can do. Gerik has declared that his village is off-limits to all travelers; he will not provide shelter to ourselves or anyone else."

An angry scowl passed over Serra's face, while a red hue developed on her cheeks that contrasted sharply with her light pink hair.

"We don't have a choice! Its much too dark out for us to travel, we have to stay here!"

"We could always make camp outside and-"

The reasonable objection was dead before it was even finished.

"Absolutely not! You tell that miserable old coot that unless he wants a curse to descend upon his town he'll grant us shelter. I _am_ an Eliminean cleric after all. To deny me sanctuary can be a dangerous thing." Serra proclaim with a huff.

Erk was left annoyed, and possibly angry, that anyone, regardless of background, would be willing to abuse their position in such a way. The mage shook his head (an action that was quickly developing into a habit) and then fished through his robes for a small brown sack. Upon finding the object of his search, he tossed the bag of gold to the ground before his employer and uttered two simple words.

"I quit."

Serra blinked, and then performed a splendid imitation of a fish that had been removed from it's intended atmosphere. The cleric snapped her jaw closed and then crossed her arms in a huff.

"You can't do that! I hired you to escort me to Ostia, and you will fulfill your contract!"

"I've returned your money, all of it. That means, I escorted you this far for free; but I refuse to stay in your employ any longer."

"Well, I refuse to accept this!"

The mage's retort was cut off as the sound of galloping hooves filled the air. He looked up to find a troop of four horses racing in the direction of the Sandor gates. The purple-haired youth withdrew his tome of Fire spells and stepped away from his... companion... If these people meant trouble, then he intended to deny them fulfillment of their goals.

Behind him, Gerik's voice punctuated the air with a long string of words- none of which sounded complementary. Abruptly, the elder's tone of voice changed as a woman's voice filled the air. The aging leader suddenly stopped cold, and uttered a single word.

"Natalie?"

The four horses arrived and slid to a stop just inside the village gates. One of the newcomers, a black-haired man who was garbed in a green cloak, dropped from his saddle and unleashed a short explanation in the Bernese dialect. A heavy-set man in tan clothing also dismounted from the horse and backed up the other's claims.

A Sacean leaped down from her mount, and hastened to support her passenger. A slightly older woman succeeded in working her way free of the saddle, but was forced to favor her injured leg as she returned to the earth.

Gerik took in the story of how the Legion had rescued Natalie and Dorcas then escaped from their situation. The village elder gave the company his thanks, and then began raising an alarm. Immediately the village of Sandor came alive as the townspeople rushed outside to hear the news.

Erk, deciding that these newcomers posed no threat, closed his tome. He then proceeded to turn a questioning look to the assembled warriors and posed a question in Standard.

"Who are you?"

The dark-haired man paused as a wyvern descended from the skies to light upon his shoulder. Once the creature had settled, the man turned his attention back to the mage.

"We're a mercenary company on our way to Lycia to receive a new assignment." The man explained wearily. "We stopped for night at an old fortress a short way from here and wound up rescuing a villager and her husband from bandits. We had to get them to safety, and so we rushed back here... the problem is that the Ganelon bandits will probably follow us and so we need to prepare to defend Sandor... you look like a mage... can we count on you to help?"

Any reply Erk may have been about to make was lost for all time. Serra chose this moment to enter the conversation and to make her presence known.

"You rescue that... woman... you say?" The pink-haired cleric smiled as she sidled up to the others. "I'm sure that Elimine will smile upon you for that. In many ways, she might have already... I am Serra, a cleric in the service of the Order and this rangy mongrel-"

The mage was certain that there was just a hint of amused vengeance in that woman's eyes.

"-is Erk my hired escort. Since you happen to be going to Lycia and we happen to be going to Lycia, might we join forces? Erky is a competent anima user, and my stunning beauty almost removes the need for a stave. Why the records are filled with people who have been restored merely from being in my presence."

Serra finished her explanation with a dainty toss of her pink-haired locks.

Four heartbeats passed before the raven-haired mercenary regained enough sense of himself to blink.

It took six more before he remembered to breath.

"I see... then you're a healer? I'll have to check with the others before we can take you under our wing, but I know that we'll be glad for your help in the coming battle. Let me introduce you to the others..."

Mark began a round of introductions and then set his mind to the task of creating a battle plan. They wouldn't have long before the bandits arrived, and he intended to use every moment possible to prepare for them.

In the confusion that followed, no one saw a certain winged serpent drop from his master's shoulder to the ground below. Romeo looked Erk's neglected money bag over, then tucked it into one scaly claw and darted off.

A short time later, war broke out around the small town of Sandor.

The Ganelon bandits arrived in force. The troop of thieves came rolling out of the forests and straight up to the closed village gates. They crashed against the barricade and then fell back, coiling like an angry snake in preparation to strike.

Migal stopped his forces and shouted with fury at the villagers huddled behind those restraining walls.

"Idiots, all of you! We know that you're harboring Lyndis and that pegasus knight in there; turn them over to us and we'll let you all live!"

Silence reigned for no answer came.

"If that's the way that you want it!" The heavy leader screamed.

Migal turned and raised his hand to signal his troops. Immediately four of his thieves produced their axes and began to approach the thick gates. The intent was clear, the brigands were going to hack their way through the gates and then sack the town.

A sharp _thwip_ sped by Migal's ear. The bandit ringleader had just enough time to don a puzzled expression before a man to his left dropped to the ground- an arrow was protruding from his chest.

The dark-haired man whipped about, to see streams of fire twist through the air and crash through his ranks. He looked skyward to discover an archer and a mage atop the village walls. His stomach crashed to the level of his knees.

Arrows and fire filled the sky.

Immediately the bandit ranks dissolved into chaos and began an instinctive retreat as self-preservation overrode any instinct of revenge. The red-haired archer was unleashing his steel-tipped shafts at an astonishing rate, barely had one arrow left his bow than did another replace it. The mage attacked with far less rapidity, but with twice the efficiency. The mystical flames poured down upon the helpless thieves in never-ending streams that chewed through the bandit forces like a lion through a lamb.

No one noticed the form of a small wyvern taking to the skies, signaling the second wave of the attack to begin.

Twin war cries filled the air as two mounted knights emerged from the forests with swords drawn and ready. The cavaliers of red and green cut straight into the outside of the bandit forces and began to slice their way towards the heart. Swords arced, steel flashed and blades met as the two attacked, blocked, parried and defeated their enemies.

The knights emerged from the other side of the pack, having successfully carved their way through the brigand pack. They wheeled their horses about to reenact their previous maneuver.

A pegasus dropped from the skies, bearing the fearful, yet determined, Illian upon his wings. She impaled a thief and then dispatched an archer before rising back into the safety of the heavens.

From nowhere, the raging force of the Sacean appeared. The green-haired woman was a force unto her own as her blade lashed out at her attackers. She blocked one clumsy attack; then spun around the weapon to land a killing blow. Immediately Lyn's sword was jetting forward to spear another thief, and from there it was withdrawn and swept in a wide arc to remove the threat of an archer.

Freed of the need to defend, Lyn was capable of moving without restriction, giving her a much needed edge against her foes. She danced through the battlefield with fluid grace, evading the blows that came her way with unpredictable sidesteps, arcs and retreats, and striking out whenever possible.

The bandit brigade was at a completely loss as this battle became anything unlike any of them had expected. The company scrambled to adjust to this sudden scenario, but the precious seconds that had been spent in the daze of surprise doomed that attempt to failure. The bandits were rapidly being cut to pieces, and proving effectively only in slightly slowing their demise.

"Fight like men!" Migal snapped at his followers, amidst the tedious task of dodging arrows. "Fight them! Blast it all they're just girls, kill them!"

A lance dropped from the sky to imbed itself firmly in the stocky bandit's shoulder. Migal screamed and leveled a curse at the pegasus knight who was retreating back into the clouds.

The wall of brigades surrounding the dark-haired man dissolved like a morning mist beneath the heat of the sun, allowing a green-robed Sacean to rise from their midst. Her fierce eyes locked onto the ringleader and declared her intent.

Migal tried to bring his weapon up to attack, only to realize that the javelin sitting in his flesh prevented him from using his axe-hand.

_--Curse that stupid wretch, I can't believe I killed Carjy just to die at her hand.--_

It was the last thought the man ever had.

* * *

Far away from the tiny town of Sandor, on the other side of the Bern Mountains, in the nestling city-states of Lycia, trouble was brewing.

A massive, armored fist came crashing through the air to splinter a small tea table that rested on the second floor, fourth room on the right, of the Castle Caelin.

The armored form of a general withdrew his mighty limb and drew himself back to his full, imposing height. The man's slicked-back, silver hair and immaculate bearing gave off vibes of nobility that were squelched by the scowl that dominated the rest of the man's features.

"This is unacceptable!" The nobleman thundered as he fixed the reporting soldier with a fierce look. "That savage was not supposed to live long enough to make it to the Bern border, let alone halfway through the country! That contract you put on her head was supposed to send every bandit and would-be assassin on her trail and be the end of the matter!"

"My lord Lundgren, please!" The soldier frantically tried to calm his master's fury. "It is still early, there is no way that she can survive long enough to arrive."

"I don't want your best guesses, I want results! Unless you can guarantee me those, you are wasting my time." Lundgren barked.

"B-but what else would you have me to do? Master Hausen has ordered two of his finest to escort the Lady Lyn-"

"Don't you DARE utter her name in my presence!"

"T-to escort her back to the castle. We dare not move against her with our own guard for fear of that..."

The gray-haired lord turned and growled at his subordinate.

"Leave that problem to me. The Marquess Hausen has so graciously chosen now of all times to 'take ill', making me the acting ruler in his stead."

"Y-you mean you've already-?"

"Think what you will. Since _I_ am now in charge with my poor brother currently bedridden, it only makes sense that I should act to protect him from some usurper who claims to be his granddaughter. Set up defenses and patrols as far out as you are able, I want her dead the moment that she so much as smells the Caelin air."

"R-right, m'lord." The soldier bowed low. "I'll set about insuring that."

A slight, breeze drew the nobleman's attention. The general swept his gaze across the room and realized that the far door was open just a crack. Paranoia and suspicion flooded his mind, prompting the man take action. With silence that seemed impossible given his build, he crossed to the ajar doorway and threw it open.

The door made contact with the soft resistance of human flesh. Lundgren felt someone be tossed to the side beneath the force of his move.

Trays, china and silverware crashed to the floor, unnoticed.

The silver-haired lord's eyes bored into the image of a young serving girl who was slumped against the far wall in a daze. Anger burned in his eyes as the general snatched the half-conscious woman off the floor and threw her into his private room.

"Find Beatrice!" Lundgren snarled at the stunned soldier. "I want to know everything that there is to know about this one!"

The Caelin knight snapped out of his stupor, bowed, and rushed away to begin his search for the head housekeeper.

As the soldier's footsteps faded away, the nobleman grasped the recovering woman's left arm and wretched it behind her back. Instantly, pain flared up the servant's arm, awakening the woman to her full predicament. The woman's eyes widened in surprised agony, but no sound came from her lips.

"I don't know who you are, but I do know that you'll regret spying on my business." Lundgren hissed past the servant's hair into her ear. "How much of that did you hear?"

Panic and confusion laced the servant girl's face, but even after the general tightened his hold on the girl's arm no word came from the captive.

"Insolent wretch, aren't you?"

The sounds of approaching footsteps reached the general's ears. With a growl, the man was forced to clamp down on his building anger. He shifted his hold from the woman's arm to her shoulder, but made sure to exert enough force to keep her in line.

Grateful for this sudden reprieve, the servant girl took the injured limb in her other hand and began massaging the pain. Her gaze slid to the floor in shame. Her auburn hair dropped to cover her eyes.

"Oh my!" A shrill cry split the air as Beatrice, an aging woman whose silver hair was pulled back into a tight bun, stepped into the room. "M-my lord Lundgren, what happened here?"

The aging nobleman frowned as he realized that the head housekeeper was staring at the scattered cutlery. The acting Marquess coughed to draw his her attention to more important matters.

"Beatrice, what do you know about this one?"

"Why, Abigail, is all this your fault? I should have known..." The elder woman turned the full force of her disapproving gaze to the servant girl. From there she turned her attention back to her employer. "I apologize, Master Lundgren. She's only been with us... a little over two months, I should say... although this is the first time Abigail's ever given us any trouble. But then, seeing as how she's dumb as an ox I guess that it was to be expected."

"Wait... what was that?"

"I said: she's dumb as an ox. Mute. Silent. Can't speak a word, or even write for that matter. Communicating with her is almost not worth the trouble."

Lundgren's mind flew back over the past several minutes. A smile crept over his lips as the truth became clear to the lord. The woman hadn't cried out because she wouldn't give voice to her pain, but because she _couldn't_.

"But don't worry, sir, I'll have her thrown out at once." Beatrice continued.

The housemaid was stopped from carrying out her threat as her employer raised a gloved palm.

"That... won't be necessary. In fact, I prefer it this way." Lundgren smirked. "From now on... Abigail, was it? ...is to handle my quarters and be in direct service to Marquess Hausen and myself. It appears that there was a brief misunderstanding that resulted in my calling you. However, I believe that Abigail's... discretion... would be a benefit to us."

Beatrice looked bewildered at this pronouncement, but shrugged and agreed.

"If you say so, m'lord."

"I do. Brief Abigail on her new duties, and allow her, and her alone, to bring the Marquess and myself our meals." The acting Marquess then dipped his head slightly so that his next words would only be heard by his captive. "And don't even think of running. Play nice and I'll let you live."

Lundgren released his hold on the servant girl, leaving her bewildered and confused. The lord donned a smile that failed to be entirely pleasant, and then gave her a nudge with more force than was necessary.

The general's smile continued even after the mess had been cleaned and the servants departed. Everything was coming together splendidly, and now he had one less thing to worry about since Abigail could overhear a private conversation, and be entirely unable repeat it- allowing him that much more freedom in his dealings. All he had to do was remove this lousy Sacean from the equation and everything would be his.

**_End._**


	6. Words

A.N.: Its a slightly shorter chapter this time around, but an important one that marks the end of this little arc.

**_Begin!_**

_Mercifully, the townspeople of Sandor had a change of heart after we successfully repelled the bandit attack and returned Natalie and Dorcas to their care. Gerik was more than willing to provide us with a room for the night, provided that we left early the next morning._

_-- Mark, Wraith of the Lorca_

* * *

Devastation reigned.

Confusion and bewilderment flooded Lyn's mind. The two emotions were quickly replaced with horror and repulsion. The meaty smack of sharp blades piercing human flesh was joined by the wail of the wounded, pleas for mercy, and the throes of the dying.

The grass beneath her feet was tinted red, and covered with the inert forms of her friends and family. Rage pulsed through the Sacean's veins as she realized that bandits had swept in and were trying to destroy everything.

Instinctively, her hand darted to draw her blade- her fingers met only empty air. Lyn risked a glance at her scabbard and was aghast to find it empty.

The wail of a woman reached her ear, drawing the plainswoman's attention. The bandits were not content to loot and kill; no, they were already beginning to commit unspeakable acts with the women of her tribe.

Three bandits saw her.

Without any weapon, Lyn was quickly reduced to fleeing for her life as the thieves walked after her. No matter how hard she ran, it seemed, she could not put any distance between herself and her pursuers. The three brigades kept after her at their leisurely pace while their prey exhausted herself with feeble attempts at escape.

Eventually, they grew tired of this game. One of the sword-wielding men reached out and, as casually as one might pluck a berry, snagged hold of her green ponytail.

Pain flared down Lyn's scalp, drawing a cry from her lips. The bandits pulled her backwards and threw her to the ground in one easy motion.

A war-cry split the air.

Brars, her friend since childhood, came from nowhere. The rescuer's blade curved through the air and stabbed at the lead bandit. He missed.

The lead swordsman merely stepped to one side, evading the thrust. The bandit then followed that up by bringing a sword around and casually introducing the blade to Brar's chest. The Sacean's lifeless body crashed to the ground and lay still.

Lyn howled in fury as she lost another friend. She leaped up, ready to tear into the man who had dared to kill Brars. Her hand latched about the brigade's throat and she prepared to slam her fist into the murderer's nose.

The woman stopped short, disbelief written across her features.

For the murder's face was exactly the same as her own, the two were identical. It was if she were looking into a mirror.

The two Lyns stared at each other. Hatred and anger radiated from one to be matched by confusion and terror in the other. Then the angry Lyn drew back her blade and sent it carving through space towards-

_IMPALED!_

Lyn awoke screaming.

The Sacean girl snapped upright . Her eyes darted about the room to confirm that she was not trapped in the plains of Sacean with the Taliver bandits, but instead safe and secure inside the Sandor Inn. As Lyn realized that all was well, her breathing slowed and steadied.

It had all been a nightmare.

The dream faded from reality, but the fears and emotions remained behind. Inexplicably, grief and fear wrapped themselves about Lyn's heart and refused to let go. She was alone. Her friends and family had been rent from her fingers in one short night, and nothing could ever replace them or bring them back. She had vowed to repay their lives with the blood of the Taliver, and that had set her down a dangerous road.

A single tear dropped to the sheets and marred the smooth white surface. It was soon joined by many brothers.

Lyn cried.

* * *

The tactician frowned as he worked his shoulder about in a tight arc. A faint pop issued from the man's appendage as a kink gave way beneath the force of his motion. He massaged the joint gently, then threw his olive green cloak back over his shoulders.

Gerik might have been willing to allow them to stay the night, but his choice of rooms left much to be desired. The black-haired man had slept on stones that were softer than those so-called beds. Still, the price was free- a fact that barred him from complaining too much.

Mark called Romeo to his shoulder, and then allowed the wyvern his morning rations. The winged serpent greedily gripped hold of the dried meat and shot into the air. A moment's search allowed Romeo to find a small alcove that suited his purpose; the wyvern landed on his perch and attacked his meal.

A small grin passed over the tactician's lips. Some things never changed.

Mark's smile would have faltered immediately had he known the real reason that Romeo had claimed that niche as his own. The small wyvern had strewn the remains of Erk's purse across the alcove and was basking in all the shiny, reflective glory of the coin contained within.

As the Bernian left the inn behind and approached the stables, his smile faded. They still had a long way to go before they arrived in Lycia, and if Migal's claims were true then they could expect an increase in trouble. The wily bandit had claimed that a contract existed which called for Lyndis' death. This was news that was not the least bit welcome to the Legion. Now every two-bit thug and mercenary would be hounding them, hoping for a chance to grow rich.

The biggest question on Mark's mind was who would have been responsible for such a contract. The logical answer was it had to be someone who stood threatened by Lyn's existence, most likely someone involved in the Caelin line of succession. Unfortunately, the tactician had to profess ignorance to the inner workings of governments, and so he was unable to narrow the search down any more.

Still, a quick talk with Kent or Sain could solve that problem.

The raven-haired man allowed himself one final stretch to work out his sore shoulder and then entered the stables. His first item of business was to make sure that the horses were taken care of.

That agenda was promptly derailed when the sounds of sniffling reached the man's ears. Mark came to a stop as he realized that he was not alone in the horse barn. His first thought was to leave and not intrude on the other's grief, but further instinct prodded him on. The tactician stepped forward, eyes peering through the gloom as his ears tried to narrow down the source of the sobbing.

Eventually, Mark discovered that the person in question was none other than Florina. The Illian was standing next to her mount, Huey, and unburdening her tears into his mane.

The Bernian hesitated for a second, weighing the risks of his next actions. He then proceeded to speak the woman's name softly.

"Florina..."

The lavender-haired knight jumped at the sound of another's voice. After settling and regaining some form of self-control, Florina looked up to find the tactician standing at the entrance to the stall. Her eyes almost immediately sank to the floor and stayed there.

Mark was careful to keep his voice soft and neutral.

"Are you alright?"

For a long moment, the Illian said nothing. Then words slowly came to her lips, although her gaze remained rooted to the floor.

"I'm... sorry, I... I didn't mean to cause you all so much trouble..."

A puzzled expression passed across the man's features. He started to take a step closer to the distraught girl; then remembered who he was talking to and halted himself. He continued the conversation.

"Sorry... for what?"

A fresh round of tears converged on Florina's cheeks.

"For... for bringing those bandits... down onto us! Its my fault, if I'd been more careful then... then they wouldn't have come after us... Then Lyn wouldn't have been found out... and everything would be alright."

Understanding flared through Mark's mind. In all the chaos, strategizing, and translating that had come his way in the past two days, he had completely forgotten about Migal's claims regarding Carjiga's death. Supposedly, Florina had tried to land during a fog and accidentally crushed the former warlord underneath Huey's hooves.

Mark knew that he couldn't let this go uncorrected. The tactician drifted into the Illian dialect and then continued speaking.

"_Florina, look at me."_

Florina swallowed and tried to obey the order. A quiver ran through the Illian's small frame as tears marred her vision. Several minutes later, she had succeeded in looking at the tactician.

"_Alright, now, I want you to listen to me, because I'm not just saying this to make you feel better. I'm going to say it because its the truth. Do you understand?"_

The girl nodded, but dared not look away lest she lose her fledgling eye contact.

"_What happened with those bandits was not your fault."_ Mark hastened to build on his premise. He could already see Florina starting to dismiss his idea as simple comfort. _"There is no way you could have crushed and killed Carjiga. You're a pegasus knight; you've ridden Huey numerous times so you have to know that._

"_I've watched you and Huey closely over the past few days, and Huey is too well trained to commit a mistake like that. He's a very dependable pegasus. When you're landing, he descends much too slowly for anyone to get pinned underneath him- its part of his instincts and nature, and his training has increased his usual caution. The moment that he would have come into contact with anyone, he would have hesitated and then pulled back._

"_Even on the off chance that Carjiga did get trapped beneath you and Huey, Pegasi are notoriously light. I'm certain that he could not weigh enough to kill a man."_

A soft, comforting whinny came from Huey. The Illian instinctively broke her eye contact when she turned to rub his mane. She was trying to draw comfort as she considered this point.

Mark continued.

"_I think this will all become clear if you think back to that day. Do you remember what happened that night? Can you honestly tell me that you could have killed Carjiga?"_

A fierce shudder ripped through Florina- a shudder so visible that Mark was momentarily taken aback.

"_I don't... I can't... I don't want to remember."_

"_I won't push you on this, but I don't think you have as much to fear as you think you do."_

"_Then... then why would Migal ...?"_

"_He's a liar and a thief."_ The tactician answered. _"We'll never know for sure what exactly happened __between you and those bandits, but my guess is that Migal killed Carjiga himself so that he could take over the Ganelon bandits and then used you as a scapegoat."_

"_Florina, you had nothing to do with Migal's decision to attack Lyn either. Remember, someone put a contract out on her, making her a target no matter who was with us- and that includes you. We're not going to be bothered because of you; you're not the source of any of our problems. If anything, you've been a great blessing to us. We would have been in trouble without your help the other day."_

Florina was silent for a long moment. Slowly her tears dried as she came to terms with the truth of the situation. The Illian was not to blame for what had transpired over the past few days, and accepting that blame was wrong and shameful.

"_I... I see... I'm sorry, Mark. I shouldn't have thought like I did. I'll try to be stronger in the future."_

"_You will grow stronger, Florina. You have great potential. You're already a benefit to Lyn and the rest of us; don't ever tell yourself otherwise."_

"_... Thank you."_

The tactician nodded to show that he understood. After an awkward pause the Bernian opted to excuse himself from the conversation. To do so he returned to Standard.

"Alright, I need to go set a few things straightened out before we depart. We're supposed to leave in a hour or so, will you be ready to ride?"

"I will."

Mark nodded and bid the Illian knight farewell. He then turned and began preparing the horses for their day's journey.

A much calmer Florina watched the tactician as he worked. With her fear put to rest, she was not able to concentrate on taking care of her pegasus and readying herself for the coming journey. Her thoughts involuntarily turned to the conversation that had just transpired as she worked to make sure Huey was alright.

* * *

A smile passed across Sain's face.

"Its a noble thing, is it not? A knight is still a knight, whether in his home country or in some foreign land. I dare say that the people of this fair plain will be much better off now that the Ganelon threat has been removed."

Kent kept the bare minimum of his attention on Sain's rambling conversation. The rest of his facilities were busy making sure that all of their supplies were present, in order, and accounted for. The auburn-haired knight was distributing their newly acquired provisions across the company's packs and saddles, then verifying that they had enough to make it to the next border town.

Directly opposite the red knight stood Sain. Wil was perched atop a nearby barrel with his legs cross and arms folded behind his head. A smile was pasted across the archer's face as was his customary expression.

"I thought that to be a given." Wil replied lazily. "Anyone would be better off without those thieves skulking about."

"True, yes, but to be the ones to perform such a deed! The expression of relief upon their faces- it was all the reward that a noble knight could ask for."

"Heh, that's funny. Last night you weren't all that content with yer 'reward', at least if the outrage of the ladies was any indication." The archer noted with a chuckle.

A flush passed across Sain's face. His usual antics had worked their usual charms, or lack thereof, and landed him in a bit of a problem. Thankfully, it had been resolved before Gerik's grudging hostility had been revoked; but many days would pass before the others would allow him to live the experience down.

"But the beauty of these humble women can not even begin to compare to the stuffy attitudes of the nobility that we serve. How can the heart help but to respond?" The grin on the blond man's face betrayed the sincerity behind those words.

Wil's eyes shifted from pleasant joking to serious consideration.

"Right, right. Its never a dull day with you guys, is it? First, we end up beatin' down some bandits, discover that there's a contract out on Lyn and finally end up saving this little village from a rather dismal fate only to have to pull Sain out of the female fire. Do you guys always run around getting involved in problems like these or was that just an unusual day for you?"

"Ah, but this is the stuff of legends!" Sain proclaimed. "Just think of the songs and stories that will be passed down to these villager's children."

Kent sealed the last of their supplies into the final pack and buckled it closed. The red knight looked up at his two companions and decided that it was finally time to enter the conversation.

"It was our duty. The citizens of Sandor could not have withstood the Ganelon bandits on their own. Without intervention they would have fallen. It was only fitting and proper that we aid them.."

"Which brings up another question or two I've been meaning to ask." A slight sparkle filled the archer's eye- it was the kind of spark that precluded some grave discovery. "One: who are you? You guys call yourselves mercenaries, but you really don't know the first thin' about freelancin'. You rescue this little town and then, instead of taking the money, just ask to stay the night and gather supplies- supplies that you paid for, by the way. Pardon me for being so blunt, but you can't survive for long like that.

"Second: why would someone want to harm Lyn? Now, I've only been with you guys a few days, but I have a hard time seein' the reasoning behind wanting her dead. She's a driven creature, but unless you take a blade to her she's not all that likely to beat your brains out.

"Three: You don't go paying others to kill someone unless you can't do the deed yourself or you have enough money to make others do your dirty work. Hired kills aren't cheap. Whoever wants her dead must have some power and influence at his disposal, which would mean that you little company must have had something to do with someone powerful somewhere."

A slightly alarmed expression passed across Kent's face. It seemed that their entire cover had been unraveled with startling ease. The red knight of Caelin fumbled for a second, searching for some suitable cover.

Sain was quick to cover for the knight.

"Pshaw, Wil, you read too much into this. We're just a band of heroes who roam the land, righting wrongs and saving fair damsels in distress. Its a romantic way to live... if a little scrimp on the money."

"Maybe." The archer slid off of his barrel-turned-seat and dropped to the floor. "But there's something goin' on here that you all aren't tellin' me. I can understand it if you don't want to tell me right now, but sooner or later I'd like to know what I've gotten myself into. I don't think you're all involved in anything shady, but... it pays to stay informed."

Kent nodded but made no reply. The archer returned the recognition with a quick grin and then left the room.

"Well," Sain commented. "that was unexpected."

"But it should have been."

"Oh, Kent, don't start that train of thought again."

The red-haired knight shook his head in disgust. He then cast his glance over the inn's front room and looked back towards the staircase which led to the higher levels of the building. A hint of confusion tugged at the cavalier's eye, but Kent was quick to dismiss it.

"You're worried- again." Sain interrupted his companion's thoughts. "What, pray tell, has you concerned now?"

"Lady Lyndis hasn't come downstairs yet. Normally she is up and about by now." Kent ignored the stab on his character and instead went to answer the question.

"We did fight two skirmishes and a battle yesterday; one would think that she is more than a little exhausted." The blond cavalier performed an exaggerated stretch and made a show of wiping his eyes. "As are we all. Don't make mountains out of molehills."

The red knight frowned, but turned his attention back to the task of preparing to depart. His focus lasted scant more than a few moments before the inn's door opened with a loud crash, and two scuffling figures entered the establishment.

'Entered' might have been an overstatement, Sain realized, for while a rather striking female cleric had entered the establishment under her own power, the purple-haired youth who followed her was most decidedly being shepherded against his will. The fact that the cleric was toting the boy around by means by means of her fist clenched about the boy's ear revealed as much.

The youth looked anything but happy.

"Oh, so here you all are! I didn't heal your wounds and mend your bones to be ignored; you ought to show your healer a little more respect and consideration. After all, my talents can always be employed elsewhere!"

Sain was more than willing to respond to these statements in kind. Instantly, he slid into the role of the romantic cavalier and hastened to appease the beauty who had just entered the establishment.

"Scorch us all! Please forgive us for this most grievous error, it was not our intent to leave such a wonderful creature as yourself to be neglected. Your most startling beauty must have driven all reason from our mind!" The green-armored cavalier bowed low.

A smile darted across Serra's lips as the knight's words fed her always hungry ego.

"Well, I can forgive you this once, I've always known that my unintentional charms have the worst impact on those around me. Since you seem rather honorable, my good knight, might you favor me with your name and your little company's ultimate destination?"

"But of course, I am Sain, a humble knight of Caelin, righter of wrongs and the blade of justice, ever at your service." The blond man straightened and introduced himself with a spry flourish performed by his right hand. "We are but a simple mercenary band on our way to Lycia- Caelin, to be exact."

"Really, now? That's quite interesting, Sir Sain."

"And why is that?"

Serra threw one arm behind her back and her other hand under her chin as if thinking. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as some decision was reached in the recesses of her mind.

"Because Erk and myself have been on a journey to Ostia for several weeks now, and our progress has been fraught with danger and peril at every turn. I am sure that we could travel much faster and safer should you be at our side."

"I'm sure that it would." A grin passed across Sain's face. "And I am certain that we would be most grateful to have you as one of our own."

A slight giggle split the air.

"I'm sure that you would, wouldn't you?"

Kent took a breath in order to bring his fellow companion back in line. The cavalier's mind then darted ahead and played out the coming conversation. After realizing the futility of the action, he closed his jaw and instead turned his focus to the purple-haired sage who had been corralled into following Serra.

"And you?" The red knight addressed the magician. "Would you prefer to travel with us as well?"

A downcast expression passed across the youth's face, as his eyes filled with the dead hopes of escape.

"I have no say in the matter."

"You don't?"

"No. I was hired to see... Lady... Serra..." Erk's throat constricted, causing him to have to force the sounds from his lips. "... to Ostia. I have to see the contract through."

Kent pondered this for a second and then nodded his approval.

"That is very noble of you."

"Nobility has nothing to do with it. The... payment... I received for the job was stolen yesterday during the scuffle. I can't refund the money paid to her, and as such am stuck with Serra for the duration of her trip." Erk's sullen reply ruined the intended compliment. "It appears that I am trapped in a predicament of which there is no escape."

Kent was momentarily taken aback by this statement. The cavalier tried to find some way to salvage the conversation, but failed.

An uneasy silence descended upon the two of them amidst the constant chatter that passed between Serra and Sain.

* * *

With Florina's help, Mark finished preparing the horses and then proceeded to guide the mounts around to the front of the inn. Upon tethering the beasts to prevent their wanderings, the tactician slipped inside the building to inform the cavaliers that it was time to begin loading their supplies.

After consequently learning of Serra and Erk's decision to join the party and managing to extract himself from Serra's barrage of questions and conversations, Mark quickly retreated from the building with several saddles and packs in hand. He busied himself with securing their hard-earned rations to the horses with Kent and Erk's help. The unanimous decision seemed to be to leave Serra and Sain to their own devices.

It was still early when Dorcas and Natalie arrived on the scene. Explanations ensued, revealing that Dorcas still wanted to raise enough money to heal his wife- he believed that working for the Legion was the best place to do so. Natalie voiced her translated support for the idea, believing that the Legion was to be the best place for her husband and the best suited to keep him out of trouble.

"_I'm willing to let Dorcas go... to give him another chance. On the condition that he will never travel alone again. I want him to have someone to pull him back from any temptations." _Natalie said.

"I realize that I have no right to ask this." Dorcas concluded his explanations. "But you saved Natalie yesterday and rescued me from a grim fate. I am indebted to you. I wish to repay you with my service."

That statement raised a rather interesting issue, forcing Mark and Kent to exchange a quick look.

While Serra (which included by extension, Erk), Florina, Wil and Dorcas were all willing to travel with the Legion for free in return for the protection offered by sheer size of numbers, this drastically increased the size of their party, and increased their expenses exponentially.

Truthfully, Mark was worried about the state of their finances. Kent and Sain had left Caelin with enough Gold to see themselves, Lyn and her parents back to Caelin safely. As non-paid members, Wil and Florina hadn't put much strain on their finances; but Serra and Erk's arrival would cause more stress than before- to say nothing of adding Dorcas to the mix. Suddenly they were trying to support nine people (ten if you counted a certain mischievous wyvern) on a budget created for five.

For the moment, Kent thought it wise to delay their answer.

"We would be honored to have you travel with us," The red cavalier replied diplomatically. "but ultimately the decision on whether or not you can join us depends upon Lady Lyndis' answer. We'll bring this issue to her attention and then return with an answer."

Dorcas nodded to show his understanding of the situation.

That task momentarily resolved, Kent and Mark exchanged a quick look and then returned to the interior of the inn. The tactician turned his attention to the cavalier and began the conversation.

"Well, what do you think?"

Kent pondered the question for a moment before replying.

"I think we can trust Dorcas. He came through for us yesterday."

"Agreed, he made a bad judgment call in getting involved with the Ganelon, but I can understand his temptation. My only concerns are these: one, we cannot afford to continually bring everyone who asks on board with the Legion; second, he is a former bandit. I don't know how Lyn would react to having him around."

"That could be a problem. It might be wiser for him to remain behind, it would keep peace in the company and ease a little of our financial strain."

Mark frowned. He then tucked one hand under his chin and closed his eyes in thought.

"I don't know what to say about that. We're running short on Gold as it is, but if these attacks are going to become more frequent then we need his strength... but any strife caused by his past would create more of a hindrance than a help...

"On a related note, I have some personal finance, a few hundred Gold. I could put that up to help with the costs until we arrive in Caelin."

"We couldn't ask you to-"

"You didn't, I just volunteered." The raven-haired tactician interrupted. "If it helps get us by, then it is worth it. The question is, however, how we're going to get by on our dwindling resources."

"Lycia is not far off. Once we arrive, we can petition the Marquesses for aid. I am certain that they will rally to our cause." Kent pointed out.

"We're... what... a three day's ride from the border? We should be able to last that long... Hopefully one of the Marquesses would allow us some funds and protection. But will your word be enough for them?"

"Sain and I were dispatched on the personal order of Lord Hausen. I have the documentation and seal to prove it. That should be more than enough to validate our word."

The red-haired knight nodded and then turned his attention to another question that had been bothering him as of late. He remembered Wil's earlier conversation and decided to raise that subject.

"Which reminds me, Wil is onto us." Upon seeing the blank look upon his companion's face, Kent hastened to explain his comment. "He suspects that we're more than the mercenary band we've been passing ourselves off as."

"Really, now?" An amused expression came across the other's face. "That puts an interesting spin on the situation. Not only do we have to satisfy his curiosity, we also have to provide some measure of explanation to Dorcas, Serra and Erk. If we do come across more of these assassination attempts, their curiosity is bound to grow."

"The contract put out on Lady Lyndis is going to make it impossible to keep this secret." Kent observed.

"Precisely. I also imagine that you have some idea who would have done such a thing. Lycian politics is something I'm not familiar with- you have the advantage over me in that area."

The ghost of a smile passed across the knight's lips. It was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I believe that Marquess Hausen was sincere in his desire to reunite with Madelyn. The guilt of trying to kill Lady Lyndis would therefore fall to his brother, Lord Lundgren."

Mark released an understanding: "Ah."

"Lady Lyndis' existence threatens his claim to the throne." The knight finished simply.

"Of course, it would be in his interests for her to... disappear." The tactician agreed. "Well, then I think that that explains the answer to our question. We level with the rest of the company... to a point. All they need to know is that Lyn is the granddaughter of Marquess Hausen who is traveling incognito and that Lundgren has taken a fancy to eliminating her."

"That is all that they need to know at this point." Agreed Kent.

Silence descended upon the two as their conversation concluded.

* * *

"My lord, are you sure that it is wise to discuss these matters here?" Counselor Notham's flint gray eyes darted across the room to land upon the red-haired servant girl who was busy cleaning the room's quarters. "There are ears about."

Lundgren waved a hand dismissively.

"Pay her no mind. The fool girl couldn't repeat anything that she hears even if she wanted to, she's mute. That's why I keep her around. Now, what is it that demands my attention?"

Notham quelled his unease and concentrated solely on the task at hand. He had a fine line to walk, for he had to communicate his intents and plans to the aging General without revealing too much of his hand.

"The winds of change are blowing." The Counselor began. "Anyone can see that, two paths have appeared before Caelin and it is ours to decide which road we are to take."

Lundgren frowned. He then clasped his hands behind his back and turned to look out the nearby window. A bad taste was beginning to develop in the nobleman's mouth. So far he had kept his intended takeover to a few somewhat trusted individuals. Notham was not one of them. His first impulse was to hurl the man from the room, but he forced that thought from his mind. It would be a bad way to begin a much needed alliance.

"On either side our leadership will change. I look to one side and see Caelin rising from its paltry state and uniting all territories beneath its banner. Everyone in Lycia would look to Caelin as its head and master. To the other side I see Marquess Hausen succeeded by a... coarse... unrefined individual whose lack of knowledge about the inner workings of politics would drive Caelin into the ground and leave us weak and helpless.

"I cannot allow the latter to happen."

The General turned and looked at the politician from the corner of his eye.

Notham continued.

"Oh, yes, I am very much aware of the... situation... Master Lundgren. Lines will be drawn, and before long all of us will have to choose a side. Madelyn was a renowned woman, loved by the population. If word gets out that she had a daughter then Caelin could dissolve into civil war. I refuse to allow that."

"What is it that you want?" Lundgren turned and fixed the politician with a glare that could have set wood on fire. "You can't tell me that you're offering your services for free."

"Patriotism is a lost virtue." The politician sighed.

"So you do want something."

"I will not lie. My first priority always has been, and always will be, the greater good of Caelin; but I will not deny that I would like some recompense for my loyalties. All I ask is that you include me in your cabinet upon your succession."

"That's all?"

"That is all."

The silver-haired General allowed his frown to deepen as he shifted to look straight at the brunet statesmen. For a long moment, the noble was silent as he pondered this sudden offer. Eventually, he came to a decision.

"Your reward will be based on your service. If I like your advice and your suggestions, then you'll have your desires. If not, then I'll take your right arm off your shoulder and throw you in the streets."

If Notham was startled by this pronouncement, it didn't show.

"Very well."

"Alright, what 'great' advice do you have for me?"

"You must strike first, you must control the situation and gain the upper hand. I would advise you to do the following..."

* * *

"Ah, Lady Lyndis." Kent noted that his liege was descending from the stairs and gave a cursory half-bow. The cavalier allowed himself a slightly concerned expression as he noted the state of his companion. "Is... everything well?"

"Yes, I'm... fine."

Lyn's distant expression and disheveled appearance indicated that everything was most certainly not fine. The woman absent-mindedly pushed some stray strands of hair from her eyes, an action that Kent could never remember her performing before, and looked at her two companions.

"How are the preparations?"

The red-haired cavalier was forced to abandon his concern for the time being.

"Everything has been readied and packed for our journey. However, there are two small matters that require your attention..." Kent proceeded to explain about Wil's ultimatum and then the decision that he and Mark had reached on the matter. He concluded with: "I know we had all hoped to avoid drawing attention to ourselves in such a manner, but that decision has been taken from our hands."

Silence reigned for one brief moment as Lyn thought through the changes this would bring and the results this would entail. She spoke at length.

"I suppose that we have no choice in the matter. Just try to secure the silence of those you tell.""

"I'll inform the others as soon as we leave Sandor." The cavalier nodded in accordance to his liege's decision. "The other matter is that Serra and Erk have requested to travel with us in exchange for protection and board."

The Sacean nodded tiredly.

"Alright, well and good."

"... and Dorcas has also asked to travel with the Legion."

"Dorcas." A hard edge entered Lyn's voice. Suddenly, her exhaustion vanished.

"Yes, he still wants to raise the needed funds to cure his wife." Kent explained. After a moment's hesitation, he continued. "I would rather have his strength with us."

"As opposed to against us." Lyn muttered darkly.

Mark decided to enter the conversation. The friction he had noticed that was developing between Kent and Lyn did not need to be aggravated by this discussion. The tactician looked between his two companions and then gave voice to his thoughts.

"I don't think that we'd have to worry about that. Dorcas made a mistake, but he was quick to rectify it. I think that he's learned his lesson and that he's trustworthy."

"He's a... a... _bethra.._." The plainswoman countered. "If Natalie hadn't been there, then he would have continued to fight against us instead of turning his colors to fight with us. How do we know that he won't do the same given the right opportunity?"

"We don't." The tactician admitted.

"Then I don't see what else there is to discuss."

"But we also know that he won't."

Lyn's eyes shot up to drill her tactician with a questioning gaze. Her brow furrowed as she tried to come to terms with the fact that Mark, who had been supporting her since their journey began, had turned an about-face and was now helping a supposedly reformed thief. They had only known each other for a few short days but for Mark to counter her felt... foreign... strange...

"What do you mean?"

"We'll never know what might have happened had Natalie not been there, but the fact is that she was. And because of that Dorcas gave up his ways as a Ganelon. An experience like that leaves a mark on a man and doesn't fade easily; every time he sees a bandit he's going to remember the look on Natalie's face when she saw him.

"Further, Dorcas is going to have to come back to Natalie when this is all over. When that time comes, he's going to have to be able to look her in the eye and explain that he received the money needed to pay off her treatment legitimately. He knows that it would destroy her if he returns after having been a bandit."

The woman's hand clenched about the pendant that hung from her throat. Her fingers traced the ornate crest that was engraved upon the smooth surface, as if trying to draw strength from the necklace. She wasn't willing to concede argument just yet.

"That didn't stop him from going to the Ganelon before."

"True, he faltered. But he didn't have that perspective about Natalie before. That is all the more reason for him to travel with us. The Legion can hold him accountable, keep him on the right path. That's an advantage that he didn't have when the Ganelon approached him." Mark deflected the argument.

"He shouldn't have to rely on someone else; the fact that he does indicates his character is not what you think it is." Lyn pressed on.

"Perhaps... But think of it this way. Would you rather have Dorcas traveling with us, and to know that he's safe, or would you rather take the chance that he'd fall back into a bandit pack and break Natalie's heart?"

An angry flush passed across the Sacean's face. Her expression darkened considerably.

"Don't you dare bring Natalie into this!"

Mark checked his immediate reply. He took a few moments to craft his response.

"Natalie and Dorcas are married. What effects one with effect the other... This will be the last I say on the subject: I believe that it would be best for everyone involved if Dorcas joined the Legion. It would be better for us, better for him and better for Natalie. Its your decision as to whether he joins us or not, and no matter what you decide, I will still be here and I will still help you... just be aware that the decision you make will impact more than just the Legion. It will effect Natalie and Dorcas' lives as well."

The plainswoman wanted to sympathize with Dorcas' situation, but at the same time her anger was burning fierce towards him. In the end, her desire to help the couple out overrode her hatred of all brigades.

"... Alright... We'll allow him to join us. But if he gives us any reason to suspect his loyalty, then we leave him behind."

Mark, feeling that he had pushed his luck enough for one morning, quickly excused himself to finish preparing the company for travel. The raven-haired tactician left the room and exited the inn.

Kent was left feeling more than a little awkward in the wake of that conversation. The red knight of Caelin hesitantly wondered what he should do or attempt. After a few seconds of debate, he decided that some form of consolation was acceptable.

"Lady Lyndis." The cavalier took a small step in his companion's direction. "We will follow your wishes. If you do not desire Dorcas to travel with us, then we shall gladly leave him behind."

Lyn stared unseeing at the far wall of the inn as she slowly replied.

"It will be fine, Kent. There is no need to worry."

"Are you... sure?"

"I..."

For a brief moment, Lyn was tempted to admit that she was not sure about anything. Never in her life had she been as confused and conflicted as she was now. The plainswoman still wanted desperately to hate the Taliver and all bandits for what they had done to her and her clan, but in recent days Lyn was finding herself less and less interested in extracting revenge and more and more eager to reach Caelin and meet her grandfather. Her focus was shifting from the crimes of the past to the hopes of the future.

The problem with that was that she had sworn to avenge her tribe, to deal justice to those murdering bandits. The death cries of her friend and family still sounded in her ears every night. How could she turn her back on the demands of her heritage?

But to do that, Lyn would have to harden her heart, mind and emotions. She would have to become remorseless and apathetic to the lives she would be forced to take and the blood she would shed. What kind of justice would it be for her to become the very thing she had sworn to destroy?

Then there was Dorcas. The fighter had single-handedly managed to make her dilemma even more complex. Dorcas was no bloodthirsty mongrel, even Lyn had to admit as much, but simply a man who had succumbed to the temptation to do the right thing with the wrong means. If Dorcas could fall so easily, how many others had fallen as well? How many bandits were not eager to kill at all, but were simply men who had made one wrong choice?

The anger and hatred that she had harbored towards the Taliver bandits had manifested itself as a fury at bandits as a whole; Dorcas had started out as a bandit, and as such placed himself on the wrong side of her expectations. The problem was that Dorcas did not fit the mold she had constructed to shove all bandits into; he was not the bloodthirsty monster that she believed all thieves to be. That fact left her hopelessly confused.

A burst of clarity shot across Lyn's memories, drawing a gasp from her throat. For the first time since the massacre, she truly remembered. As she had fled from the Lorcan camp with her fingers desperately trying to maintain some hold on her mount's reigns, a single bandit had passed her by. He could have easily buried his axe into her horse's flanks and spilled her to the ground. But the nameless bandit had not. He had merely allowed her to escape- his face was twisted in soul-tearing grief.

The Taliver were horrible, vile beings who were not even human. But even in their midst had been one man who had simply made a mistake and wished that he could take it back.

Lyn brought her palms to her eyes and buried her face within her hands to hide the sudden emotions that were threatening to break across her features. She was devastated at this realization. To completely destroy the Taliver meant that she might have to slay some who were not entirely deserving of death.

The plainswoman half-heartedly wished that Mark was still present. Though few in number, she had found that holding discussions with her tactician always helped to clear her mind. Even if the man were present, however, Lyn knew that she wouldn't approach him on this issue. Her pride was still stinging from their brief scuffle.

Kent watched all of this and felt his own conflict begin. Part of him wanted to step in and make some attempt at comfort, while his other half sternly reminded him that he was a knight of the Caelin order. It would not be proper for him to intervene in his liege's troubles.

Eventually, the red-haired man settled on a compromise that would open the door for him to act.

"My Lady Lyndis." The knight began. "I do not wish to speak out of turn, but I want you to know that you are never alone. Mark, Sain or myself are here and at your service. If you need anything, from battle to conversation, all you have to do is ask."

The Sacean looked up and allowed herself an exhausted look at the cavalier.

"I... will be fine." Lyn straightened and moved towards the doorway. Abruptly, she paused and then turned back to the red knight as she realized just what the cavalier had been trying to do. "But Kent... thank you."

Kent bowed, but made no verbal reply.

* * *

"_Welcome to the Legion, Dorcas."_ Mark finished bring the stocky fighter and his wife up to speed. _"We're glad to have you."_

"_I thank you."_ Dorcas said simply.

Natalie reached up to push a small tear free of her eye. The woman took a calming breath and then embraced her husband.

_"Stay safe, and keep out of trouble."_

"_I will, I promise."_

The two slowly separated, for this was not an easy decision for either of them. Dorcas moved to join the rest of the company, but kept his attention focused on Natalie. The brunette offered a small smile and a wave, which was silently returned.

Natalie then turned her attention to Mark.

"_Please... I know you've done so much for us already, but please keep an eye out for him."_

"_I will. I'll do everything in my power to keep him safe."_

The two's eyes locked and a promise passed between them.

The sound of a door slamming drew the tactician's attention; Mark looked over to find Lyn and Kent arriving on the scene. The raven-haired man excused himself from Natalie and moved to rejoin his friends and comrades.

The Bernian stepped closer to Lyn and then offered a small apology in Sacean.

"_Lyn, if I came across as too hash in there, I apologize. I cannot begin to imagine how hard such a decision was for you; I did not mean to be overbearing."_

"_It is alright, Mark. This is for the best... I... can understand your passion for helping him... its the same desire to help that allowed me to join you. We'll have to discuss it later."_

Mark breathed a quick sigh of relief.

"Very well then."

Sain's booming voice cut through the conversation. The green knight stepped forward, Serra just behind him, and threw his arms out grandly.

"Lady Lyndis, you have arrived! Your beauty and pleasure is a delight to us all."

"Thank you, Sain." Lyn ignored the compliment and brushed it by. "Is everything ready?"

"All has been prepared and put in order."

"Then let us be off. We've lost enough time as is."

Lyn moved to her horse and easily pulled herself into the saddle. The rest of the Legion quickly moved to follow and climbed atop their respective steeds. The Sacean pulled her horse about, then cast a quick look over her company to make sure that they were all ready. After confirming that fact, and waiting on Mark to recall Romeo, she guided her horse through the village gates and they embarked upon the next leg of their journey.

**_End!_**


	7. Hate

A.N.: Well, here we go. Another update is ready.

**IVIaendhros**, Granted, injury is a probable result. However, Florina didn't kill Carjiga, so even if Mark fudged a little on the details the point still stands.

**Derra & tatsu55**, Thanks for the review, and the Manni Katti will surface soon.

**Shadow Zeranian**, I wouldn't say neglected, since the support conversations at least acknowledge it. I feel, instead, that the writers just weren't able to properly do anything with it.

And a massive thanks to **Kitten Kisses** and **Quieru** for their massive and very insightful reviews. I'm glad that they enjoyed it so much, and I hope that I can continue to deliver.

On another note, several people have been asking about Mark's motives and reasons for joining the legion. Rest assured, that he does have a backstory that fuels his desire to help the Legion. All will be revealed later on (I'm already dropping hints in regard to his motives); at the moment I just wish to assure everyone that Mark does not have a traumatic history or angst-ridden past. That said...

_**Begin**_

_Mercifully, the last few days have been rather quiet. We've passed entirely through Bern and are penetrating the Lycian Border._

_It was a very strange company that we'd formed. The diversity of our group was as sharp as the difference between Serra's sharp tongue and Dorcas' quiet speech. To be honest, this had me concerned. Thus far we'd encountered only untrained bandits and had been fortunate enough to escape unscathed. That could all change the moment that Lundgren decided to hurl a professional force against us._

_I just hope that Kent's idea of petitioning a Marquess for aid works, that would solve a lot of problems._

_--Mark, Wraith of the Lorca._

* * *

"Mind tellin' me where we're headin' off to?"

"Just away from any ears, I don't want this news to travel farther than it has to."

Wil raised an eyebrow in confusion as he followed Mark away from their evening camp. The archer was led across the field into the leafy canopy of a forest. The tactician had pulled the archer aside earlier and asked to speak to him alone.

Just inside the tree line, the raven-haired tactician stopped, dispatched Romeo to the skies and then allowed himself a seat on a fallen log. He then turned his attention to Wil, who had taken up residence by leaning against a nearby tree.

"Back in Sandor, you asked what was going on. I'm going to tell you."

"Really, now? So you aren't the heroic, romantic mercenary band Sain makes you out to be." Wil looked positively satisfied with this confession. "I'm all ears, Mark, what's the tale?"

"It's simple, really. Lyn is a noblewoman, the granddaughter of Caelin's Marquess Hausen; Kent, Sain and myself are escorting her back home."

It took the cheery archer a moment to realize that his jaw was hanging open. The red-haired man snapped his mouth with a sharp 'click' of colliding teeth. A few more moments passed before he found his voice again.

"W-wha- you're pullin' my leg, aren't you? This is some kind of joke, isn't it?"

Mark soberly shook his head.

"No, it's the truth."

Wil digested this news, albeit very slowly. The archer was more than a little overwhelmed by this revelation, and having a hard time adjusting his world view to fit.

"That's... mind-shattering. Lyn isn't anything like those pampered society ladies who couldn't even heft a sewing needle, let alone a blade... but what about her accent, and that Sacean dress? No, noblewoman would be caught dead with either of those."

"Lyn isn't your average noble. She's half-Lycian; half-Lorcan. Her mother eloped with her father. She was raised on the plains and only recently came aware of her heritage."

The redhead allowed himself a low whistle.

"It's like a fairy tale or somethin'."

"'Somethin' is probably right. But there's a hitch in the works, Lundgren, Marquess Hausen's brother isn't too pleased with Lyn's existence as it removes his claim to the throne. We're convinced that he's the one behind the contract and has been setting ambushes for us on our journey."

"Makes me glad I'm not a nobleman." Wil chuckled under his breath. "I never could put up with all the musical backstabbing. I'd rather have family I can trust than relatives who'd put a dagger in my heart at the first opportunity."

Mark was silent following that remark, he'd said his piece and now it was time to check his companion's reaction.

"Don't worry, Mark, I'll keep your secret and I'm still on your side. I never would have survived the Sandor raid without your help, and those Ganelon bandits would have skewered me alive if they'd caught up with me. Besides, this life of travelin's gettin' really old; I figure that its about time to start settling down and Castle Caelin seems like as good a place as any."

The tactician nodded and then got to his feet. He crossed the forest floor and dropped a welcoming hand onto his friend's shoulder.

"Thank you, Wil. Your bow is a great asset to us. I've already informed Dorcas and Erk about our situation. Serra... I haven't talked with yet, but I'll have to soon."

Wil's face paled.

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks, I'll need it."

Mark watched the archer leave and allowed himself a long breath. He knew that it was probably a good idea to return to the camp, but for the moment he was content to just stay in the silence of the forest and allow his head to clear. After all they'd been through, it just felt good not to have to worry about someone for a few moments.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of revelations and actions that had pushed the entire company right to edge of their limits. Mercifully, the past few days had been quiet enough that everyone was able to come to terms with their situations, and work through them... to a point.

For several long minutes, the tactician allowed himself to relax in the stillness of the forest. Then he permitted himself one last sigh of relaxation then prepared to head back to the evening camp. Mark's journey was short and to the point, bringing him back to the others after a few short minutes.

The raven-haired man examined the party and took note of where everyone was. Sain and Serra were engaged in a rather dramatic discussion, which was not a surprise. The green knight of Caelin appeared to be one of the few who could play Serra's game and walk away unscathed- as such, everyone else was more than willing to leave them alone. The muted glow of a lighted candle betrayed the fact that Florina was hiding in her tent, while Wil was busy trying to regale Dorcas and a very distracted Lyn with some tall-tale about some man attempting to tame a unicorn. Erk was off to one side, looking reserved and paying minute attention to the others.

By and large, it was a rather usual evening.

Kent, upon noticing Mark's return, left his customary position immediately behind Lyn and approached the newcomer. A question was burning fierce in the cavalier's mind.

"How did he take it?"

"About the same as the others. Initial disbelief, slight awe, quick to see advantages to the situation." The tactician outlined the discussion. "He claims that he's grown tired of traveling and wants to work steady. He's no fool. Wil knows that if he helps us return to Caelin he'll have an easier time entering the military. "

The red-haired cavalier nodded. That had been similar to how the other conversations had proceeded. Now that that business had been resolved, the knight turned his attention to the other item that required their attention.

"That solves one problem, now we need to deal with another, we're approaching the Araphen border. The castle is only a few days ride from our present location. If one of us leaves and rides hard, it can be reached in a day and half's journey."

"You're thinking about riding ahead to see if the Marquess is willing to help us?"

"That was my plan, yes." Kent admitted.

Mark hesitated as he turned the notion over in his mind. The potential benefits were great if accepted, and the worst that could come of it would be a flat rejection. The only difficulty that could arise from such a course of action would be Kent's absence in the event of an attack. While the others were capable fighters, only Sain could boast anywhere near Kent's level of proficiency. But then, they were only three day's journey from Araphen... surely no one would dare to attack this close to a Lycian capital.

"It makes sense, if we send you ahead then everything can be ready when the rest of us arrive..."

"... And allow us to press on towards Caelin without delay. Time is not on our side, the sooner we arrive at Marquess Hausen's side, the better off we will all be." Kent concluded that train of thought.

"I agree. Especially because we have no idea how far Lundgren is willing to go; if he's targeting Lyn, then he may decide to remove his brother as well."

Kent's eyes narrowed as he considered this thought. The cavalier was forced to admit that it was likely; and that made it all the more imperative to reach Marquess Hausen as quickly as possible. His sworn liege was in danger, and it was his duty to intervene.

"All the more reason for us to hasten our journey."

"... Point... I suppose it is the best course of action; alright, plan on leaving tomorrow morning. I'll speak to Lyn about it tonight."

* * *

"Alright, you old oaf, get out of my way!"

A meaty 'smack' filled the air, followed by a sharp cry. The temple elder crashed to the ground and felt pain flair up his left arm as the old bone yielded to the unforgiving might of the stone floor. The man forced the pain from his mind and turned just enough to see the mercenary brigade forcing their way through the vestibule.

"No- no, please, you can't! Stop this madness while there's still time!" The man pleaded with his attackers.

No reply was forthcoming.

The band of warriors plowed through the ancient structure, overturning furniture and shattering anything fragile enough to show weakness. Attendants and villagers were pushed aside or disposed of. The fighters were a force of unstoppable fury, and nothing could deter them from their purpose.

A hearty laugh filled the air as the lead mercenary ripped the hanging drapes from the wall and hurled them across the room. A large iron sword was drawn from the man's scabbard and dashed against several candlesticks and lanterns. The relics clattered to the ground and set the tangled tapestries on fire.

The stocky man lowered his weapon and turned to the object of his torment. A gnarled, aging man with a head of snow-white hair lay against the far wall where he had been thrown. The mercenary stalked over to his prisoner and dropped to one knee before his prey.

"Now then, have you finally come to your senses?" The mercenary demanded an answer. "Or do we have to get rougher?"

The elderly man's eyes narrowed with renewed determination.

"I... will never surrender to you. I have vowed to protect the Manni Katti with my life, and I am fully prepared to carry out that oath. Your kind will never be allowed to touch it, Glass."

The mercenary leader, Glass, snorted and stood upright. Regardless of his prisoner's words, the swordsman turned and looked to the nearby altar. The altar was the only portion of the keep that had been left untouched- entirely due to the shimmering field of light that was draped over the pedestal. Glass extended his left hand and ran his fingers over the illuminated veil, and felt the familiar tones of crackling power threaten to rip through his skin.

"So, you still won't remove this barrier, will you, you old fool?"

"You would use the sacred blade in combat, such is sacrilege!"

"And hypocrisy!" Glass whirled and fixed the elder with a fiery gaze. "We've all heard the stories of how Hanon the Horseman was aided by Kit, who passed the legendary Manni Katti on to her descendants. The blade was created to be used- to deny it that right is the true sacrilege! I have need of that sword, and by my eyes I will walk out of here with it. Now remove the barrier, you oaf!"

The man kept silent; he refused to answer.

"... Stubborn mule. You might be willing to die for that blade, but will someone else...? Let's find out..."

The stocky mercenary stormed back to the vestibule and issued an order to his second in command.

"Carter! Grab one of those villagers we captured and bring 'em in here- preferably a young one."

Realization lit the elder's eyes, which was immediately followed by horror. The man, Arron, scrambled forward in a fearful attempt to stop the coming disaster.

"No, you wouldn't, you can't!"

"Oh, but I will. One every hour until you finally give in and allow me to take that blade." Glass stepped to one side, allowing Carter to herd a young girl through the doorway. "You've got the power to save her life, so its time to ask yourself if that sword is really worth her blood."

The young girl cried out as Carter roughly grabbed a handful of her blond hair and rudely jerked her head back. The second-in-command looked at his leader as the stocky mercenary moved to place his blade against the child's neck.

"Well?"

Arron hesitated; his indecision showed across his face. He had no desire for an innocent to be caught up in his struggle, and yet he, of all people, knew the dangers that could arise from allowing the wrong person to have access to the Manni Katti.

This did not go unnoticed by Glass.

"Stubborn, aren't you?" The mercenary sneered at his captives. He then snatched the girl's left arm and pulled it upward so that he had easy access to the limb. Glass proceeded to move his blade from the girl's throat to her wrist. "We'll see how long that lasts. I wonder how many screams you can take before you crumble... will you run out of gumption before she runs out of limbs?"

The girl's pleading eyes drilled into the elder, begging him to stop this madness.

Arron yielded. With a simple hand motion, the man allowed his magical barrier to drop.

"Heh, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Glass dropped the girl's arm. Then, the mercenary deliberately turned his attention to his captive and smoothly patted her cheek. "You'll have to thank the old miser later for letting you live. I know you're grateful."

With that mocking scene hanging in the air, the leader turned back to the altar. Glass stepped forward and, without so much as a reverent pause, removed the sacred sword from its resting place. He then proceeded to partially unsheathe the Manni Katti.

The man frowned as the blade bucked within his grip. He tightened his hold on the blade, noted its sudden submissiveness, and then returned it to its scabbard.

Glass tied the weapon off to his belt and then turned to his subordinate.

"Let her go and rally the men, grab 'Uncle Arron' here and 'escort' him out to the horses. He'll be joining us on our little journey. And move it, we've wasted enough time here and I will not lose any more; we've got a job to fulfill!"

Carter hooted his agreement and then hastened to fulfill the orders.

* * *

It took Kent's absence for Lyn to realize just how suffocated she had felt under his presence.

The cavalier had proposed his plan to ride ahead and garner support from the Marquess Araphen. Upon receiving approval, Kent had wasted no time in beginning his journey. Now, a few hours later, Lyn was fully realizing how the knight's presence had affected her so.

The first thing that the Sacean noticed was that there was a gaping hole in immediate area. Kent had been faithful in dutifully keeping a post that placed him at a respectful distance to her- but allowed him to intervene as necessary. Now that he was not present, she was slightly startled to discover how relaxing it was not to have an extra set of eyes watching her every movement. On the other hand, it felt unnatural to have an empty hollow resting behind her shoulder where Kent would normally be.

Still, no one else in the Legion paid near as much attention to her (with the slight exception of Mark, who was always willing to lend a hand to whoever needed one). Leaving Lyn with the twin feelings of freedom at not being watched, and off-balance without having a constant presence behind her. It was strange how a few weeks had affected her so.

The plainswoman shoved that train of thought aside and focused her attention on the road ahead. They were making good time, but the entire journey was still taking far too long in her estimation.

A sudden increase in the repetitive _clomph _of the horse's hooves drew Lyn's attention. She turned to find Mark spurring his horse forward to pull alongside his green-haired companion. The tactician turned his gaze skyward, checking the flight patterns of his wyvern, and then turned his attention back to the ground.

"According to Romeo there's nothing in the immediate area. If this holds we should reach Castle Araphen without any delay. Hopefully, what happened at Sandor was an isolated incident."

"... We both know that that isn't true." Lyn felt another bought of feelings rising from her throat that she wished would leave her alone. "Many will come after me because of that... contract."

The slump of Mark's shoulders and the sudden downcast expression that passed over his face indicated his surrender to the argument before it could begin. For Lyn's sake more than anyone else, he decided to move the conversation into the realm of Sacean in order to provide a measure of privacy.

"_I had hoped you wouldn't worry over that."_

"_How can I not? Marq-... My grandfather has indicated that he wishes to see me... but his brother wants me dead just for existing."_ Confusion passed over the Lorcan's face. _"I... I used to think that only the Taliver and Ganelon could be so cruel... but now... Now I'm beginning to see that evil is everywhere. Lundgren, he... he is just as evil as the Taliver."_

"_I will not disagree with that statement, I also believe Lundgren to be evil. But bear in mind that there are good people out there as well. It is easy to start to assume that everyone is evil, however, not everyone is as selfish and heartless. Kent is perhaps a prime example of that. He has done everything in his power to aide you even though he will receive no benefit from it."_

Lyn pondered that statement for a moment. She was tempted to bring up the fact that Kent had been ordered to escort her, and as such his desires to help were not based upon a personal desire to help but a professional one. But then she was forced to remember their battles at Sandor and how Kent had deliberately placed himself in front of her- to take the brunt of the combat in her stead. Such action was not required to fulfill his duty, and indicated that the cavalier was helping because he wanted to and not because he was forced to.

It was at that moment that the Sacean realized that Mark was riding in Kent's usual spot. A slight stab of... something ... twinged off of her heart. For anyone other than the red knight of Caelin to occupy that position felt unnatural... even if they had only been together for a short time.

She forced that feeling aside and turned her attention back to the topic at hand.

"_I'll try to keep that in mind, Mark... I just... its all become so confusing..."_

"_I know. I can't even begin to imagine all that you're going through right now. But you do have the rest of us fighting with you. You don't have to be alone anymore... if you'll accept us."_

"_I appreciate all that you've done for all of us. You, Kent, Sain, and the others."_ The green-haired Lorcan allowed herself a measure of peace. _"I never would have gotten this far without you."_

A relaxed expression passed across Lyn's features for a moment. As quickly as it had come it vanished beneath another somber mask. The slight pain in the woman's features was not lost on the tactician.

"_But something's still bothering you."_ Mark noted.

The woman nodded slowly.

"_Is it about the Taliver?"_

"_It is."_ Lyn admitted. _"I... said that I was confused earlier... I'm confused about everything. I've been thinking and worrying about this for several days now. I... don't... I don't want to do this. I can't carry on this plan of revenge; it would turn me into the very thing that I am eliminating."_

Mark could not have been more surprised at that moment if Sain had ripped off a mask and revealed himself to be none other than Lundgren in disguise. Still, he managed to cover his amazement well enough, only a slight twitch of his eyes betrayed his emotions. The raven-haired man gave his friend a small nod and waited for her to continue.

"_I had a dream, a dream that put everything in perspective." _The woman explained._ "I don't want to carry on this goal of revenge..."_

A pained look crossed Lyn's features.

"_... but I have no choice. I have to press on; I have to kill them all."_

"_You do."_ Mark said after a long pause. His statement was not one of understanding or questioning, merely a prompt to continue the conversation.

The Sacean turned her head to hide the ring of tears that were forming over her eyes.

"_You don't understand... My tribe was murdered, slain, ripped away from me. All that I ever knew and all that I held dear was stolen. The once proud Lorca were reduced to a pitiful shadow of their former selves as they begged for their lives... I swore to avenge them... I vowed on Mother Earth herself to destroy their murderers, to cut them down just as surely as they cut my people down."  
_

The tactician's right eyebrow shot up in amazement. He'd never heard that part of the story before; while there were a host of expressions that were used throughout Elibe, every region had their own view of them. The Lorcans were sustained by the game and crops produced by the fertile Sacean plains. For a Lorcan to vow something by the earth was to create an oath so strong that no other language could come close to describing it.

"_Even now... I hear their screams, their blood calls out to me and demands justice. I... I can't turn a blind ear to their cry nor my back on my heritage."_

Silence descended upon the two. Mark was hastily using this brief reprieve to decide how next to pursue this line of discussion. Lyn was feeling both confused and ashamed for some reason; she suddenly felt like a small child who had been forced to conclude that she was in the wrong but was powerless to change the fact.

Eventually, the raven-haired man spoke anew.

"_I told you this before,"_ Mark began. _"but I had a sister once."_

Out of the corner of his eye, the tactician could see Lyn giving him a questioning glance. She was clearly puzzled and trying to figure out how her friend's statement connected with the rest of their dialogue.

"_I also told you how some disaster befell us and killed her. I know it sounds strange, but I often wonder what life would be like if she and my mother had lived."_

Now, Mark could see that he had Lyn's full attention.

"_But... and please don't take this the wrong way... if Miriam were alive today and if she were to have become a heartless thief or a bloodthirsty bandit, I think it would shatter my heart. I know that it would have destroyed my father. I would rather her be dead than to become as the Ganelon._

"_Do you believe that your parents would feel differently?"_

Lyn had no answer to that question. Or rather, the answer she had was not one she wanted to consider.

Unbidden, a thought pressed itself up against the interior of Mark's mind. The tactician entertained it for a moment, and then pushed it aside.

_--Ah, Lyn... you try so hard to be strong for yourself and for others... But its times like these when I'm reminded that you are only fifteen.--_

The raven-haired man came out of his reverie and looked to the sky to check up on his wyvern.

A laugh threatened to burst from his throat at the antics being carried out over their heads. He only barely managed to contain it.

* * *

The world was so peaceful from above.

Florina reveled in the simple joy of flying. When flying, the cares of the world below didn't matter, for the sky was its own and laughed at any attempt by the earthbound creatures to manipulate it. And with the weight of Carjiga's death removed from her shoulders, she had never felt so alive.

As if sensing his rider's mood, Huey's wings creased, allowing the two to bank into a descent. They dropped through the sky and sank through a nearby cloud layer. The Illian couldn't help but laugh as the mist tickled at her face and the wind tugged at her hair. The two broke free of the cloud and Huey kicked out to regain some of their lost height.

She was never so happy as when she was flying. She never felt so... herself... as when she was flying.

The lavender-haired girl turned her attention to the earth below and strained to pick out the small forms that made up Lyndis' Legion. From her height, the Legion looked to be about the size of little playthings that children would use... and yet each one was certainly recognizable. That green smudge with a dot of yellow next to the pink-topped white rider was Sain talking to Serra. Wil's dark red hair was easy to see as he sat behind the stocky Dorcas; Lyn was riding at point while Mark's olive-green coat showed him to be riding just behind her. Erk was off by himself.

A sharp 'squarble' split the air, and broke into Florina's line of thought. The Illian looked up, startled, to find a familiar wyvern performing a series of loop-the-loops in the air before her. Buoyed on by exhilaration of being airborne, the normally shy girl could barely contain a laugh and shout of encouragement.

Romeo came out of his trick and arced about to draw alongside the pegasus. Huey took one look at the reptilian serpent and flicked his main in good-natured disgust. Even in tamed creatures, the rivalry between pegasi and wyverns for control of the skies was strong enough to create a constant contest between the two.

"Don't get too haughty!" Florina smiled at the wyvern. "We haven't even begun yet. Right, Huey?"

The snow-white pegasus nickered in response, and promptly went into a long dive to build up speed. Abruptly, Huey kicked out, caught a clod of air, and launched himself into a fierce climb. After getting a feel for the air currents, his hooves pounded the air again and propelled the two into a sharp loop. Immediately after coming out of the trick, Huey banked into a tight circle and performed two large circles that brought him back to the wyvern's side.

Romeo hissed with mock disgust and performed a quick barrel-roll in response. Upon completing his trick, the serpent exploded into laughter.

Florina laughed again. A loop-the-loop was pushing Huey's abilities as it was. The two would have to find some other way of besting the cackling serpent.

The rivalry between pegasi and wyverns was closely tied to the different means of flight between the two. The structure and wing placement of wyverns meant that the reptilian creatures had to rely on the traditional flight method that had been used by birds for generations. Updrafts were caught and created through the use of the reptile's wings and then currents were used for gliding. This resulted in wyverns relying on sheer power to fly and move, and imbued them with great strength.

A pegasus, on the other hand, flew not through natural mechanics but through magic. (1) The wings of a pegasi's shoulder were not strong enough, nor powerful enough, to provide the lift required to raise a pegasus off of the ground. As such, the pegasus' wings were used primarily for gliding, looks, and dominance within a herd. The real power for flight lay in the natural stores of magical energy that rested within a pegasus' flanks. A pegasus could tap into that storehouse of wind energy and essentially use it to 'walk' across the sky by kicking at the air around it. A byproduct of this was the natural magical 'shield' that surrounded the pegasus and helped to lessen the severity of magical attacks used against the winged horse.

This divide between the two species, magic and endurance against strength and power, was primarily responsible for the natural enmity between them. Mercifully, in Romeo and Huey's case, the rivalry was lessened from a lethal level to that of a friendly rivalry.

Florina turned her focus back to the Legion that was traveling far below. She was grateful that she had stumbled across this little band and that they had taken her in. Being able to be close to Lyn was her primary concern, but the rest of the travelers weren't that bad. Dorcas and Erk kept to themselves, and so they didn't bother her too much. Serra had quickly dismissed her as too boring while Sain and Kent had honored Lyn's wishes to leave her be. But none of them were aloof or cold, they were there and willing to talk if Florina was interested or needed help, but weren't willing to force a conversation.

Truthfully, The lavender-haired girl had worried over the next phase of her training. A Pegasus Knight was trained hard in Illia until they graduated from the academy, after that they were expected to find work as a freelance mercenary within some guild or company to prove their worth. After two years, the trainee could return and join the Illian Mercenary Guild.

Working with Lyndis' Legion had been a large relief to the Illian, as now she was amongst a few familiar faces and with people who weren't really looking to fight at any opportunity. They were all, indeed, nice people.

Mark and Lyn had been especially helpful to her. Lyn was always ready to share a secret or a conversation, while Mark...

Florina wasn't exactly sure what to think of Mark.

Their conversation in the Sandor stables had been the first time that the pegasus knight had been glad to talk to someone of the opposite gender, and she was forced to admit that she really didn't mind. The tactician was always keeping a protective eye on her, encouraging her, and helping her to move past her current fears. She was glad to he was her first commander and tactician.

The Illian jerked as she came out of her thoughts and refocused her attention on the trip at hand. They still had a ways to go, and her getting lost wouldn't speed their journey any.

* * *

According to the sundial, it was four marks past noon when the Red Knight of Caelin reached the bustling city of Araphen.

Kent slowed his tired mount as he approached the city gates. The red knight gave his horse an encouraging pat as they entered the streets of Araphen. Locating the central castle was a small task, and without losing too much time the cavalier had reached his destination.

As had been expected, the castle guards stopped him the moment he approached the entrance. Kent was careful to keep his hands away from his weapons. It wouldn't do to rile the guards and ruin that critical first impression.

One of the posted guards took a lance and approached the horseman.

"What brings you here?"

"My name is Kent, I am a knight in the service of Marquess Hausen of Caelin." The red-haired cavalier explained his intentions. "I seek an audience with Marquess Xaviour regarding an important matter."

"You and the rest of the world. Everyone's beggin' for the Marquess' attention."

Kent noted with dissatisfaction that the soldier actually rolled his eyes. From the man's sloppy posture and sarcastic tones, it was obvious that whoever this man was, he was poorly trained.

"Lemme get one of the attendants, they can help you out." The soldier stepped aside and then retreated through the castle entrance.

Minutes wore away as Kent was forced to wait for the situation to play itself out. Eventually, his patience was rewarded. A castle attendant and a man of some noble bearing emerged from the structure's entrance.

The cavalier dismounted and allowed the attendant to take charge of his horse. He was pleased to note that the servant was much more competent than the guards, and he felt much safer leaving his trusted horse, Sigurd, in the other's hands. Once that transaction had taken place, the cavalier turned to the nobleman and waited for recognition.

"Welcome to Castle Araphen." The man performed the customary half-bow, knocking a few of his block strands of hair free of their intended place. "I am Counselor Robert Candell; you said that you had some business with the Marquess?"

Kent repeated his statements about his origins, and then followed that explanation with the comment of: "My business is of a somewhat delicate nature. Could we discuss this in a more private fashion?"

"Of course. If you will follow me?" Candell turned and reentered the fortress, leaving the knight to trail in his wake.

Mercifully, the rest of the castle guard served to undo Kent's initial dismay. Those who were on duty were quite alert and attentive to their posts, with no signs of laxity. It appeared that the soldier who had greeted him had been the exception rather than the rule.

Candell noted the cavalier's interest in their military's forces and decided to comment on it.

"You seem quite interested in our soldiers; tell me, how do they compare with Caelin's standards?"

"I believe that they are every bit as capable as our own." The cavalier returned diplomatically. "They seem to be well trained."

"Ah, yes... that would be entirely due to Rath. Our military was in a very sorry state before he came along."

"Rath?"

"Yes, he's our captain. He had the fortune of rescuing Marquess Xaviour from a rather interesting state of affairs some time back. In response, the Marquess allowed Rath a place in the military, he climbed the ranks rather quickly."

Something in the politician's tone told Kent that there was much more to the story.

"Ah, here we are."

Candell stopped before a thick, wooden door. The blond man pushed the door open and then stepped inside the room- which was soon revealed to be a large office of sorts. Rows upon rows of bookcases filled the inside walls, all of which held thick, legal works. A large desk took up the center of the room, behind which was placed a single chair.

The politician moved to seat himself behind the desk, solidly establishing the balance of power in his favor.

"Now then, what brings you to us?" Candell cut straight to the topic of the meeting.

"Recently Marquess Hausen learned that his daughter had given birth many years previous. He dispatched a small force to escort his daughter and her family to Caelin." Kent's reply was just as pointed, even as he was careful to omit any names from the story. "However, it has become apparent that someone has taken offense to the woman's presence and wants her dead. I have come before you to make a most humble appeal for Marquess Xaviour's aid. Any help he can lend to ensure the safety of the Marquess' granddaughter would be endlessly appreciated."

A raised eyebrow betrayed Candell's surprise. The statesman sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers as he considered the story that had just been revealed to him.

"That is quite... interesting. Very interesting indeed. You say that Marquess Hausen's had a granddaughter living in secret all these years? That is quite the amazing turn of events...

"But tell me, Sir Kent, what proof do you have to validate your story? Anyone can make any claim that they desire, truthful or no. It would be rather... embarrassing for us to lend our aid to one when his claims do not coincide with the truth."

"I understand, as far as proof goes," The cavalier paused to remove twin sheets of parchment from his satchel. He placed them upon the politician's desk in full view of the other man. "I have here two letters, both of which are signed and sealed by our Marquess. One is a letter of introduction to any providences we may travel through, the other is the letter to Lady Madelyn explaining his desire to reunite with her family."

A long moment passed as the blond statesman examined the twin documents. After convincing himself that the documents were genuine, Candell extended them back to the red knight of Caelin.

"All appears to be in order and correct." The man nodded. "I ask your forgiveness for doubting your story, but not every man is as honest as a Caelin knight."

"No offense taken."

"Ah, thank you for that. Very well, I shall arrange for you to speak to the Marquess before the sixth degree of the dial. If you will wait for me here, I shall return when it is time for you to present yourself and your plea to our lord."

Kent performed a bow of gratitude.

"I shall await your return."

The politician crossed the room, but paused just in front of the doorway.

"Ah, by the way. I was informed that you had arrived alone. Where, pray tell, is the rest of your company?"

"I rode ahead to speak with Marquess Xaviour. It is my hope that we can ready any offered aid so that when they arrive tomorrow afternoon we can depart again with minimal delay. The sooner we return to Caelin, the safer our liege will be."

"I see... a very fine plan... Very well then... I shall be back shortly."

With that, Candell left the room.

The politician's words about not everyone being trustworthy were well founded. Hardly had the man left the knight behind than did he set about on his journey, not to the throne room of Castle Araphen, but to another, more secluded sector of the fortress. Candell stopped before another, smaller, office and entered without so much as a knock.

The room's occupant looked up at the newcomer expectantly.

"Get your forces ready." Candell ordered without a word of explanation. "The hour of our triumph is at hand."

"So, you're finally ready to proceed, eh?" The room's occupant, a raven-haired general, smirked in response. "Took you long enough."

"Not everything is as simple as ramming a spear through another's skull. The intricacies of politics and governments require cautious, delicate handling. Many things had to be put into place and prepared for the coming future."

"Right, whatever, when do we move?" The general's flint gray eyes locked onto his employer.

"Soon. Evidently, the 'Lyn' we've been hearing so much about has decided to pay the Marquess of Araphen a visit. If we can eliminate her, then I fully expect Lundgren to back my claim to the throne, following Xaviour's untimely death, once Hausen perishes. Have your mercenaries in place tomorrow afternoon; that will be when we shall strike."

"Right. I could care less about your petty squabbles, so long as we get paid you'll have no complaints from me."

* * *

Marquess Xaviour braced his hands upon the railing of his castle's balcony. The heavy-set lord frowned as he stared off into the horizon, seeking the answers to his problems.

What many did not know was that long ago, he, Albert Xaviour had tried to court the Lady Madelyn. In his youth, Xaviour had been bound and determined to win the hand of Hausen's daughter and to marry her. He could honestly and truly say that he had never cared for anyone else as much as he had for Madelyn. He had wanted nothing less than to make her happy, and to fulfill her every wish. He had the wealth and power to do so; there was nothing he could not do for her.

Then she had turned and slapped him in the face.

Madelyn had eloped... with a nomad. A Sacean Nomad of all things! The Saceans were known far and wide as savages who were just barely human- their ingenuity and inventiveness was known to be sub par. They were resourceful, there was no escaping that fact, but primal in all instinct. What did that nomadic savage have to offer that he, himself, did not? Power, lands, nobility? These meant nothing to the Saceans, and yet Madelyn had snubbed them all for a man who had nothing to offer.

And now, Xaviour could almost hear the laughter in the air, the daughter of that unholy union had appeared and was seeking his aid! It was unfathomable. The child of the woman who had renounced her nobility was asking for help to regain the family her mother had left.

The daughter that could have been his, under a very different set of circumstances. That fact was not lost on the Marquess.

Xaviour's first instinct was to follow through with the bitterness and anger that had flooded his veins. Who was this savage child to even think about approaching him? Her mother had once been his entire world, and Madelyn had turned and spat in his face because of it. He had every right to throw Lyndis from the kingdom and refuse to acknowledge her.

But then... such an action was superficial at best. Regardless of his involvement, Lyndis was the child of Madelyn. Had not he, himself, once vowed to do whatever it took to make Madelyn happy? Under that oath, how could he refuse to aid her?

Xaviour growled.

He hated all nomads, all Saceans. They had stolen his happiness and his greatest love out from under him. That was a crime that he had never forgiven. But if the daughter of Madelyn needed help, then he was honor-bound to do so... provided that Lyndis was worthy of his aid. Yes... that would be his escape clause... so long as Lyndis was worthy...

The Marquess turned and marched back into his castle. His decision was made.

* * *

A flurry of movement and motion descended from the skies as Florina and Huey dropped to the ground. The Illian turned her attention to Lyn and allowed herself a small smile.

"Araphen's just over that next hill."

A visible wave of relief passed through the company. All they needed was a little more time, and hopefully they would be home free.

"All right! A few more minutes and it'll be smooth sailin' from here on out!" Wil cheered.

"Provided that Marquess Xaviour aids us." Mark reminded the others. "We don't know for certain that Kent succeeded in his efforts."

"Either way, we should have some guaranteed safety within the city walls tonight. I believe that we'll all sleep well because of it." Lyn returned. She turned her mount just enough to be able to thank Florina for keeping such a close eye on their progress, and then spurred her horse into motion. "Either way, let's press on. We won't arrive sitting here."

"Point." Mark grinned as he moved to follow suite.

A quick ride carried the Legion up to the city of Araphen. There was no comparison between the Sacean outpost of Bulgar and the sprawling streets of Araphen. The capital city dwarfed the other with ease. Cobblestone streets and sturdy buildings met all who entered the gates. Small gardens dotted the landscape in stark contrast to the rows and walls of vendors who bracketed every passageway.

The Legion assembled just outside of the city gates and prepared to enter- only to have their progress cut short. A burly soldier in heavy armor stepped from his position alongside the gate to bar any from passing through it. Two more guards appeared and positioned themselves just behind the other.

"HEY!" The soldier raised a hand and pointed an accusing finger straight at the Legion. "Where do you think you're goin'?"

Lyn urged her horse forward one step, and then addressed the question.

"We are a band of mercenaries who are on our way to Caelin to receive a contract. We simply wish to reside the night in Araphen and to leave early on the morrow."

"The city's closed. You'll have to find somewhere else to shack up." The soldier stated matter-of-factly.

The implication of that statement was not lost on Lyn, but for the moment the Sacean decided to ignore it. Getting sidetracked from the main issue was not going to do them any good. She had to stay on track and refuse to allow these soldiers to get under her skin.

"One of our members traveled ahead to secure lodging for the night, the fact that he has not returned to us indicates that he may be within the city walls. Could we at least get a message sent to him? It would be ill-fated for us to leave him behind with no word of our whereabouts or intentions."

"That's not my problem. All I know is that the city is closed, that means that no one and nothing gets in or out. Especially nomadic wretches." The stocky soldier glared at Lyn as he swept his arm out to encompass those present. "_We_ don't want their stench filling our air."

Lyn's pride hardened into a barrier that tried to deflect the barbs being thrown at her. This was not the first time that she had ever encountered anti-Sacean sentiments; experience had taught her that making a scene was not going to help the situation. She was not impervious to their words, as they still cut deep, but she refused to allow them to goad her into action.

The guard continued: "So why don't you all just turn about and leave. We don't want your kind slinkin' around-"

"That's enough."

No sooner did that new voice enter the conversation, than did the three soldier's faces pale considerably. The lead guard whipped about to find himself being stared down by a stern-faced nomad and a red-haired knight. Only a stutter managed to leave the stunned man's lips.

"C-c-captain Rath..."

"You are dismissed. Return to duty." The nomad, Rath, ordered.

The three soldiers couldn't comply fast enough, and almost ended up tripping over each other as they hastened to vacate the gate.

Once they had gone, Rath turned his attention back to the Legion. A slight flicker of surprise passed across his features as the Captain took in Lyn's blue eyes and soft features. Blue eyes were almost unheard of among the Sacean tribes, and indicated that some other form of ancestry was mixed in with that person's heritage. It had been the nomad's experience that most who found themselves partially Sacean did their best to hide the fact- not to embrace it.

While Rath came to this realization, a heavy silence had hung in the air.

Lyn's initial frustration over someone else fighting her battle faded as she realized that her ally wore familiar brown robes and cloth decorated with tribal patterns, had narrow eyes and had a bought of green hair. All this indicated that he was of common heritage, which gave her the initiative to speak first.

"Thank you. You... are Sacean, aren't you?"

"I am... I am Rath. Rath of the Kutolah."

"And I am Lyn of the Lorca."

For the second time in as many minutes, surprise passed across the nomad captain's features. He had heard that none had survived the Lorcan massacre; it appeared that he was wrong.

"My Lady Lyndis." Kent moved forward to enter the conversation. "Rath is the captain of the Marquess' guard. He came to escort you to the castle, where Marquess Xaviour has graciously agreed to provide us with an armed escort and a caravan of supplies."

This time, Rath was successful at concealing his surprise. Not only was he stunned to discover that there was a Lorcan survivor, he was almost floored to realize that the Lorcan survivor in question was none other than the Marquess Hausen's granddaughter. The odds of such a feat were outstanding.

"We'll be sure to thank him; that was most generous." Lyn commented.

Rath accepted the words with a slight bow of his head and then decided to move things along.

"If you will follow."

The nomad pulled his horse about and began leading the way towards the castle. The Legion scrambled to keep their guide in sight.

Lyn was again struck by how quickly she had adapted to the changes the recent days had brought. Her sense of equilibrium had been restored now that Kent had returned to his usual position; while she still felt slightly uneasy about being 'smothered' by the knight, it felt good to have someone watching her back again.

Kent, however, was just merely relieved that no harm had befallen Lyndis during his absence. The red-haired cavalier would never admit it, but the back of his mind had been filled with worry during their brief separation. If something had happened when he had not been present, then the cavalier knew that he would never forgive himself.

Mark kept an eye open as he followed the others threw the city streets. He was moderately relieved to see that the few days apart seemed to have relieved some of the tension between Kent and Lyn. While he had no doubt that it would eventually flare again, the reprieve would be good for them. The tactician turned his eyes skyward and noted with a sense of foreboding that Romeo was performing a series of loops and twirls- indicating that there were many armed men about.

Araphen was a large capital, thus it made sense for soldiers and militia to be about. But that did little to ease the knot that had developed in the raven-haired man's stomach. His usual guerrilla tactics wouldn't be applicable in these city streets- not without a lot of preparation and a thorough knowledge of the city layout. He began planning contingencies just in case.

Florina just made certain to stay close to Lyn. Her recent successes and accomplishments had buoyed her fledgling confidence, but she wasn't ready to strike out on her own just yet. There were a lot of people of the male variety milling about- and more than a few of them were staring at the foreign sight of a pegasus in their midst. The Illian briefly considered taking flight and escaping from the intense study, but firmly rejected the notion. She had to become stronger; otherwise she was of no value to anyone.

A few minutes ride carried the company to the center of the city, where a large, stone castle proudly rose up from the city streets. Ivy rose up along the side of the castle walls, and guards were posted every few feet to form a protective ring around the building.

"So this is Castle Araphen." Mark noted. "Interesting..."

"The castle gate is this way." Rath stated simply.

The bowman continued to lead them around the towering structure. A few more minutes passed, and then the company arrived at the main entrance to the castle. The soldiers guarding the gate studied the rag-tag group led by their commander, and then shared a quick look.

"They are expected. Pay them no mind." Rath instructed the soldiers.

In response to that order, the two Araphen guards immediately retreated back into the castle- and dropped the gates. A loud crash of clanging metal filled the air as the heavy iron bars dropped from the ceiling to completely blockade the entrance and deny anyone refuge. The two soldiers shouted an alarm, and then went racing off into the depths of the fortress.

Confusion filled the Legion as they realized that they had just been denied sanction.

"What?" Sain bolted upright at the strange actions of the soldiers. "We've been cut off?"

"The Marquess pledged to aid us, why would they now bar the gates against us?" Kent put the question to Rath, who had no answer to provide. It quickly became obvious that the nomad was just as bewildered as the others over the actions of the two guards.

And then chaos filled the air. The sounds of a deafening explosion filled the air. The assaulting smell of smoke and ash made itself known as it washed across the Legion; and almost immediately thereafter a large fireball filled the sky. Cries of 'fire', pain and confusion filled the air.

It took them several seconds to realize that the opposite side of the castle was now covered in roaring flames.

Warning sounds went off in Mark's mind; whatever was going on, it was big. In their current position, they were standing at a very indefensible position. They could be struck from the rear, and then when they turned to engage in combat the castle gate could open and more forces could emerge to catch them in a pincer attack. This was not a good place to be.

A warning shriek from Romeo descended from the sky, giving all of the raven-haired man's fears substance. It also saved the Legion's life.

The tactician whirled about and spurred his mount. "Everyone, ride!"

The Legion's confusion was temporarily banished in the face of this order. As one, the company turned and followed the Bernese mage as he bolted to the left.

Almost immediately shouts of war rose up in the party's wake.

Kent risked a look over his shoulder and felt surprise flood his system. A host of armed men had emerged from the city streets. It was fairly obvious that the mercenaries had been targeting Lyndis' Legion- and that they were scrambling to adjust for their quarry's sudden actions. A few reinforcements emerged from the castle and joined the others.

"Into the alleyways, quickly!"

Mark kicked his horse into a gallop and pointed it into the direction of a nearby street. In all actuality, the 'street' was little more than a footpath between houses; its narrowness forced the Legion to ride two-by-two as they shot into the small trail.

Angry shouts indicated that their pursuers were not giving up.

The Legion emerged from the path and broke into a wider city street. The tactician leaped from his horse, hit the ground, and began issuing orders. His mind spun frantically as he tried to recall his lessons and develop a strategy within seconds.

"Lyn, Dorcas, block that path. Create a bottleneck so that they're forced to fight you one-on-one and can't overwhelm you with their numbers. Hold out for just a few minutes, that's all that I ask."

The swordswoman and the fighter shouted to the affirmative and dismounted. Any mistrust or unease between the two was quickly banished as they were forced to unite against this common foe. The Sacean and the Bernian charged back into the alleyway and almost immediately began trading blows with their opponents.

Mark almost ordered Florina to carry Wil to the rooftops so that the archer could snipe at their enemies. He checked himself at the last moment as he remembered Florina's idiosyncrasies. Instead he simplified his orders drastically.

"Wil, get to the rooftops and attack, now!" The Bernian ordered.

This time, the archer nodded without hesitation.

"You blaze the trail and I'll run it, captain!"

The raven-haired man conjured another shadowy barrier, and formed a makeshift staircase to get the rust-haired sniper to his post. Once that task was done, he turned back to the others.

"Rath-" Mark had a split-second with which to decide whether to trust the nomad or not. This attack had obviously been planned and thought out in advance- it was too well coordinated not to have been premeditated. The Sacean nomad could have fit into the trap excellently... but Rath had seemed genuinely bewildered when everything had started falling apart. And if he was looking to put an arrow in their backs, he could have done so long before now. The tactician shoved his doubts aside and decided to follow his gut instinct. "- take that bow you've got and support Lyn and Dorcas, your horse's height should allow you to do that. Serra, you're with him."

The Araphen captain nodded in silence and hastened to comply with the order. Serra kicked up a small fuss about being placed so close to the conflict as she readied herself to heal at a moment's notice.

"Florina, get airborne. Snipe at them from the sky with javelins, but don't get too close. Can you do that?"

"I- I'll try!" The pegasus knight looked terrified at all that was going on; but in the midst of her fear was a small seed of determination.

"That's all I ask. I know you'll give it your all; and that'll help us out greatly."

With that Florina and Huey prepared to take flight into the skies- only to be stopped by a warning shout from Mark.

At the last possible second, a stark realization made itself known. The raven-haired man felt like kicking himself when he realized that he had almost made a minor mistake. Assigning Florina to help Lyn and Dorcas had been a redundant move and one that endangered the pegasus knight. With Rath and Wil peppering the alleyway with arrows and Lyn and Dorcas fighting in close quarters, assigning Florina to help them in such a confined space was just asking for an accident.

"Hold! Wait, Florina... I've just had a better idea. I want you to help Kent and Sain-" Mark broke off again as he realized that one of the cavaliers was paying little attention. Amazingly enough, this time it wasn't Sain. "Kent! Pay attention!"

The red knight of Caelin managed to pry his worried eyes off of Lyn. He disliked leaving her alone to fight this battle, but he dare not rush to her aid lest he undo all of Mark's plans- whatever they may be. Kent somehow managed to regain full use of his mind before the tactician continued.

"Kent, Sain, Florina, Erk... here's what you're going to do..."

Each particular member of Lyndis' Legion was both shocked and amazed as the battle progressed. Their constant battles and fights had not been entirely in vain, for with it had brought new allies and new experiences. The battles of the past had taught all of them something and helped to refine their skills.

Lyn felt much more confident and secure as her blade darted through the air. Her recent trials had left her with some valuable knowledge and wisdom; she was beginning to see beyond the immediate moment and into the possible future. Whenever she attacked, the Sacean was beginning to anticipate the different ways that her opponents could retaliate, and was able to plan accordingly.

If the plainswoman had had the time to stop and think during her battles, she would have been comforted to discover that it was not hatred or revenge that drove her to fight. Scarcely a thought of her tribe of family entered her mind as she ducked away from one mercenary's wide swing and responded with a stab of her own. Instead her mind was focused entirely on staying alive, keeping her friends alive, and making it to see her grandfather.

The green-haired swordswoman drove her blade through a crack in her next opponent's armor and then spun around to engage her next opponent. She didn't know why she was being attacked, but she would survive it. Her grandfather was counting on her.

Like Lyn, Dorcas' strength came entire from the thoughts of his wife. The burly axeman brought his weapon about in wide arcs that powered their way through any defenses that his enemies might be able to muster. A few quick fighters were able to score cuts against the fighter, but the man barely felt the blows upon his powerful arms.

He was certain that his wife would be able to walk again, she would be able to enjoy a day without pain. When he returned, Dorcas was determined to take Natalie on a long walk through the Bern forests, to see the fields that she loved so much.

This desire spurned the fighter on and drove him to inflict as much damage as possible upon his enemies. Money was needed to save his wife, and so he would fight for money. The fact that it was money bought with blood made no difference to him. These men had attacked him, and so he was defending himself and the Legion.

Dorcas continued to hammer away at his foes, even as Serra worked furiously with her healing staff to close his wounds. In the cleric's mind, she had better be repayed handsomely for the trouble she was being put to.

The fight dragged on for several long minutes. Arrows rained from the sky as Wil drew back his bowstring and released it. His shots had been honed in recent battles and his endurance had greatly improved. The archer released arrow after arrow; all of which tilted the battle in the Legion's favor and bought precious seconds of reprieve for Lyn and Dorcas. The fact that they were fighting in a narrow space limited the mercenary's abilities to act as a unit and further tilted the odds in the Legion's favor.

More projectiles flew as Rath unleashed his attacks. The Sacean nomad was fighting for his pride and those under his protection. He would not allow any harm to come to the kingdom under his watch.

The enemy mercenaries pressed on- almost stumbling and trampling over their allies as they tried to surge forward and swamp over the two obstinate fighters who barred their progress. Their mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: eliminating their employer's targets.

And that proved to be their undoing.

In a repeat of the maneuver that had served them so well thus far, Kent and Sain emerged from the nearby city streets at a full gallop. The knights of Cealin had worked their way around the city streets and circled about behind their opponents unnoticed. The two's lances descended upon the remains of the mercenary company and severed it in two.

Kent and Sain's maneuver had split the mercenary company down the center- some of the force was still within the small footpath while the rest was scattering the face of this unexpected attack. Several of their enemies tried to form counterattacks upon the cavaliers, but the two horsemen never slowed their gallop and evaded all attacks with ease. The foot soldiers were no match for the power of the two mounted units, and were woefully inaccurate while the Caelin knights could not help but score victories.

Those still trapped in the footpath were swiftly cut down as the confusion of the sudden, surprise attack swept over them. For a split second, the mercenaries hesitated as they tried to ascertain what had happened to their companions. That was all that was needed to effectively seal the Legion's victory.

Dorcas and Lyn renewed their attacks and pushed their way towards the mouth of the pass. Wil and Rath moved with their partners and provided critical support and kills of their own.

Florina dropped from the heavens and barricaded the entrance of the footpath with her twirling lance. The lavender-haired Illian offered a quick prayer for every soldier who ran into her fatal lance as her stomach twisted at the thought of so much bloodshed. She knew that her prayers were in vain- but the action eased some of her guilt.

The mercenary company was effectively trapped within the narrow street, and vanquished quickly.

Erk appeared and lent his aid to Kent and Sain, who were dispatching the last of the forces. The sage's fiery attacks fell upon the hapless members, and reduced their numbers even more. Mark also entered the battle and managed to fell two mercenaries before his own magical stores were depleted.

Within the quarter of a sundial, the battle was won. Upon realizing that they stood no chance of winning, the survivors of the company turned and fled for their lives.

Weary, but victorious, the Legion regrouped. They were exuberant to discover that while a few minor wounds had been sustained, none were life threatening. With Serra's help, everyone could make a full recovery.

"Well done, everyone." Mark congratulated the company. "You all fought magnificently."

"At least they didn't allow me to be attacked too often." Serra was still clearly miffed over the fact that a stray hand-axe had penetrated Lyn's defenses and almost removed the cleric's arm from her torso. "You should all be much more careful!"

Sain, of course, was right there to smooth over the ruffled feathers. It wasn't often that he came across someone who allowed him to exercise his romantic patter, and so he was determined to make the most of it wherever possible... A part of his much wished that it didn't have to be around someone as boisterous as Serra was.

"Ah, please forgive us all!" The green knight cried out. "Had any harm befallen such a beautiful creature such as yourself then I would be forever haunted by such a failure! Please, beautiful Serra, accept my apologies, and I shall redouble my efforts to ensure your safety."

"Well... we'll see."

Kent politely coughed and decided to bring the conversation back to more productive means.

"Now that we are assured of our ally's health. Our next question is this: why were we attacked?" The red-haired cavalier turned his attention to the nomad bowman in their midst. "Rath?"

"... I do not know." The Araphen captain turned his gaze over the city. "The castle is on fire. There are sounds of battle. I have no reasons."

Lyn's jaw tightened. Memories and knowledge from the plains were coming back to her, and she didn't like what they were indicating. "The Taliver loved to set fires to sow confusion as they attacked. The same is probably happening here."

"You're probably right." Mark admitted. "And offhand, all signs point to a battle taking place within the castle... But we need to find out exactly what's going on before we go wading in there and end up helping the wrong side."

At that particular moment, a new voice entered the conversation. The voice's tones were youthful and carefree as if the speaker had no particular destination in mind and all the time in the world to arrive.

"Well, I think I can help you all with that."

Mark, Lyn, Rath and Kent turned to find a blond-haired man, draped in a faded red cloak, leaning against the wall of nearby farmhouse. The newcomer looked up with a lazy grin and studied those present.

"Hello, Matthew's the name. I couldn't help but overhear you all talking and figured that I could afford to lend you my services. Y'see, I just had the fortune of escaping from the castle, and let me tell you, its none too pretty in there."

"You're... from the castle?" Kent studied the newcomer and noted, uneasily, that there was a barely discernible line running down the length of the man's cloak- the kind of line created by a scabbard.

"I was just... er... touring the facilities, but then things took a turn for the worse. Someone set the old northwest tower on fire. No sooner did the guards rush in to investigate than did some mercenary group sweep in and cut them off at the knees. Turns out that one of the counselors decided to make a bid for the throne; ol' Candell's attacking Lundgren's throne room as we speak."

"Candell?" Kent repeated in surprise. "He's staging a coup?"

"That's what I said."

"You know him?" Lyn fixed her companion with a questioning gaze.

"He arranged an audience between Marquess Xaviour and myself; its because of his intervention that the Marquess agreed to aid us at all." The cavalier provided a brief explanation of his relations with the traitor.

"That explains it all quite nicely." Mark mused aloud. "Candell decides to take the throne, but he knows that he'll need backing in order to secure it. He also knows that we're scheduled to pass through Araphen right about now."

The hardening of Kent's features betrayed the fact that the cavalier had already come to the same conclusion. Lyn was also catching onto the same train of thought and becoming angry as a result.

"And so he plants mercenary forces throughout the castle, causes a nice distraction and launches a coup. He takes the throne and kills Lyn and then in return Lundgren backs him and helps to smooth over any ill feelings among their peers."

"He must be stopped." Rath stated simply.

Kent was crestfallen and angry at all that had transpired. In his endeavors to secure aid and allow Lyn to reach Caelin as quickly as possible he had instead placed her in great danger. He had performed such an action unknowingly, but that did not remove the fact that he was responsible for their current plight. The red-haired knight turned to his liege and offered an apologetic bow.

"My Lady Lyndis, please forgive me. I never intended to subject you to such danger."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others." The plainswoman responded gently. "And you should stop trying to be. There is nothing to forgive, Kent, I know you only acted with our best interests in mind."

Kent looked positively stunned over how quickly his mistake had been dismissed. Very rarely, if ever, could a knight expect to receive grace and forgiveness from his lord. While Marquess Hausen had treated his knights with respect and honor, it did not begin to compare with the simple kindness offered by Lyn. For a brief moment, he was unsure how to respond.

That decision was removed when Lyn turned back to Rath and offered to help him in any way possible. Kent started to object, acting upon the belief that it was too dangerous a situation to enter, but he curtailed that desire fairly quickly. He was an unknowing instigator in this coup and as such had to correct his mistake.

"Thank you for your aid." Rath acknowledged the offer. "There is a secret passage between the soldier's barracks and the throne room. With it, we can surprise Candell and end his threat."

Mark nodded in approval.

"Excellent place for it. In the event of a surprise attack, the soldiers could storm the throne room quickly and protect the Marquess... I'm guessing that it was built for just such a reason as this? The builders must have had some foresight...

"Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked, the mercenaries are only acting because they're being paid. Remove the source of their money, Candell, and they should retreat fairly quickly..."

The nomad bowman nodded silently.

"Alright, then... we have a plan."

"Great!" Matthew's voice caused the rest of the company to jump in alarm- they had all completely forgotten about his presence. "Do I play a part in it?"

"You?" Lyn shot the newcomer a strange look. "You wish to join us? Why?"

"Simple enough. He's dead," The blond man pointed towards the nearest deceased mercenary. "and you're not. Its much funner to be alive than dead, so I figure that I'd join you if you don't mind."

Now it was Kent's turn to ask a question. The red-haired cavalier eyed the newcomer's concealed knife warily as he felt his suspicious nature take hold.

"And what skills do you have that could benefit us?"

"Well... yeah, about that. I guess you could say that I've got... nimble fingers?" Matthew's smile shifted into one of cheeky innocence.

That statement was met with blank stares.

At length, Lyn discovered the blond man's cryptic meaning.

"You're... a thief?"

"'Thief' is such a nasty word. I'm actually more in the 'repossession' business. But c'mon, you won't regret bringing me along. I'm not just about taking money, that kind of petty thievery is beneath me. I deal primarily in picking locks, gathering information and, eh, the forced misplacement of important items. So, what do you say? If you go charging up to the soldier's barracks and the door's locked, what are you going to do?"

Mark shot a quick look at Rath, who silently produced a thick wooden key. He held it there for a long moment before returning it to his satchel. The simple action was answer enough to the question. The two took a fair measure of satisfaction as Matthew's face paled. He had just lost his biggest trump card.

"There, you can see that we have no need of a thief." Lyn frowned as she made her decision. "I think it would be best if you were to go elsewhere for your employment needs."

To the plainswoman, thieves just barely rated higher than bandits did, and that one should offer to help them repulsed her. Anyone who bettered themselves at another's expense was not trustworthy in her estimation, and was best left alone. She was not desperate enough to completely forgo her morals just yet.

"Alright, alright, if you don't want me to come with you, then I won't... but if you run into trouble, then you know right where to find me. I'll be here." Matthew folded his hands, flashed them all a confident grin and settled himself in against the farmhouse.

Now that that was settled, Lyndis' Legion organized themselves for any battles that they might become involved with and set off for the barracks.

Matthew just began humming to himself and waited.

Half of a dial passed, and eventually the thief was rewarded with the sound of a horse's hooves. He looked up to find the raven-haired tactician riding towards him at a full gallop. Mark slowed his horse and came to a stop by the blond man.

"Change your mind?" The blond thief grinned.

"Forcibly." The tactician admitted. "Someone attached a second lock to the secret passageway, we can't get it open."

"Well, that's a problem. And I take it that you want me to get rid of it?"

"... Yes."

"Alright, provided that you accept me into the company. And tell you what, since I'm feeling generous I'll even lower my rate for you... say... 2,000 Gold coins?"

Mark hesitated. Between Lyn's resistance to the idea of Matthew joining them and the precarious state of their funds and supplies, he was loathe to just give in to the thief's demands. Still, they had wasted enough time and could scarcely afford to lose any more... He would have to try and strike a compromise, quickly.

"Fifty for the lock; room and board in return for traveling with us."

"That's probably about the best I'm going to do, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Alright then." Matthew grinned widely. "Consider me a part of your numbers."

That was all of the information that the Legion needed to know at the time, the blond thief decided. Because it would only be problematic if the fact that he, himself, had installed that second lock came to light. But regardless, Matthew's place on the Legion was now assured.

* * *

"This is it."

Rath paused to hold his torch before a seemingly dead end. A blank stone wall barred the group's progress and refused to allow them to move forward.

While Mark had been recruiting Matthew, the rest of the Legion had concerned themselves with gather members of the scattered Araphen militia. A sizable group of roughly fifteen men had been assembled in that short time. With Rath taking point, the soldiers had joined the nomad captain, Sain, Kent, Mark and Lyn on their attempt to reclaim the castle.

"Are you sure that this'll work?" One of the soldiers voiced his concern as he pointed to the raven-haired tactician- or more accurately, the small wyvern that was resting upon the man's shoulder. "It sounds crazy if you ask me."

"Mark's schemes may appear to be... unorthodox... But he has yet to fail us." Kent commented.

"Quite right! If Mark claims that something will work, then you can rest assured that his plan is sound." Sain agreed.

The Bernese mage grinned weakly, but dared not comment. Really, what could he say in the face of these comments? Now was not the time to undermine the confidence of the Legion- even if it did mean that he would have to suffer some embarrassment.

"We're wasting time." Lyn pointed out. "We should launch the attack."

Rath quickly agreed.

"She's right. Let's move."

"Well now, Xaviour, what goes around comes around... it looks like your actions have finally caught up with you."

Candell felt a surge of triumph fill his being as he ran a hand over the ornate carvings that had been set into the Araphen throne. At long last, all of his scheming and planning had paid off. He was finally on the verge of overthrowing this miserable tyrant and securing the throne.

Xaviour's reply was brief.

"You miserable worm! I'll see you dead for this!"

The Marquess of Araphen's voice was filled with fury. Had he been able, the burly man might have torn the traitor apart with his bare hands. But as it was, the nobleman's arms were firmly bound behind his back and a raven-haired general had his shoulders in an iron grip.

Candell's elation faded as he realized that there was still one small task to be performed. The wiry statesman turned back to the bound ruler and motioned to a nearby mercenary. The hired swordsman stepped forward and handed his client a long knife.

"Only in the afterlife, Xaviour, as your life is about to end. After generations of being ignored, it is time for the Candell bloodline to regain control of Araphen."

"... You're insane. The Candell bloodline was polluted by the savages years ago- you can't possibly hope for the Council to accept-"

"The _Council..._" The politician spat the word out like a curse. "... will not interfere. They are forbidden from interfering with the internal affairs of the state's politics. You and I both know that. They have no power to deny me the birthright that should have been mine. Any other objections?"

That question was met with stony silence.

"Good. Now, Xaviour, its time for you to die."

Candell took the knife in his hand and stepped towards the helpless Marquess. His intent was clear.

A loud shriek filled the room, followed immediately by a sharp yell. One of the mercenaries pitched forward and crashed to the ground as his hands flew to a gaping wound on his head. A blur of motion shot through the room as a winged terror was unleashed on those within.

"What the devil?" The traitorous politician whipped about as he tried to discern the source of this unexpected attack.

Another mercenary was felled as the gray streak of color crashed into his shoulder. The blur congealed into the form of a small wyvern just long enough for everyone to register its presence before it was launching itself into the air again.

Candell ducked as the beast ripped through the space his head had occupied mere seconds ago.

"Kill it! Kill it now!" The statesman bellowed in rage.

Under any other circumstance, the ensuing scene might have been humorous. It was truly a sight to see the seven hired mercenaries scrambling about to chase after a winged serpent who was cackling madly at their feeble attempts to restrain him. The wyvern was both small and agile, a combination which allowed him to dance around the mercenaries with ease.

A single cry of 'NOW!' split the air. A moment later, and an arrow had split Candell's shoulder.

The traitor howled and turned to find soldiers pouring out from some newly created doorway behind the throne. With their focus having previously been on the loose wyvern, the mercenaries were caught completely flat-footed, and were cut down quickly.

Candell was not long in joining their demise.

* * *

"It is over." Rath stated in his usual, abrupt way.

Nevertheless, the nomad captain was correct. As soon as Candell had perished and the coup failed, word had spread amongst the mercenaries like wildfire. Immediately the sell-swords had begun to retreat, and the battle for Araphen had turned into a full rout. The castle might have been damaged in the attack, but the government was still solidly in place.

"No... no, it is not." Marquess Xaviour growled in a voice that could have rivaled the lion's in its ferocity. "It is not over until Lyndis' company has been dealt with. They had something to do with this entire mess, didn't they?"

The nomad merely nodded. Words were unnecessary when a simple gesture would do.

"... Where are they?"

"They are waiting in the next room."

"... Get them in here, now!"

Rath complied with the order. He silently left the room, summoned the Legion and returned barely a minute later.

Those who had participated in defeating the traitor Candell: Kent, Sain, Lyn and Mark, stepped into the newly liberated throne room. The three males quickly followed protocol by kneeling before the Marquess, while Lyn settled for the direct introduction.

"Marquess Xaviour, are you well?" The Sacean took a step towards the aging noble. "We were-"

Xaviour's eyes ignited with anger as he realized the full scope of the situation. The aging monarch thrust out a single hand and pointed a commanding finger in the woman's direction.

"STOP! Don't you dare approach me!"

Completely taken by surprise, there was little that Lyn could do save comply. She froze and waited to see what would happen next.

Kent and Mark looked up in alarm. They both had the sudden feeling that this meeting was not going to end well. Their unwanted expectations were met.

"You... you're Madelyn's daughter, aren't you?" Xaviour paused to fully study the Sacean's features. His expression darkened considerably. "Yes... you have her eyes... There's no mistaking it. And... that pendant..."

Anger and hatred flooded the Marquess' veins. The fates had convened to deliver him the ultimate insult. It was true that this woman standing before him bore a strong resemblance to his love, Madelyn. But it was a warped and scarred likeness as if someone had taken all of Madelyn's best features and pasted them onto a savage's form. It was Madelyn, and yet, it was not Madelyn who looked out from this girl.

To add insult to injury, this girl wore the very pendant that Xaviour had presented to Madelyn a year before she had eloped. It had been specially crafted and cast just for her.

And at that moment, Xaviour was struck anew by how much had been stolen from him. That Sacean nomad, Hasser, had ripped Madelyn away from him and left this... warped reflection of her beauty behind. Madelyn would never, and had never, returned his love- this child was a testament to that fact. Had she been born to him, then the child would never have been cursed with such a coarse appearance.

Xaviour was just at a loss to understand why he had been rejected in the first place. The Saceans had nothing, could offer nothing. Hasser had no wealth, power or nobility, and yet he had effortlessly trumped Xaviour in the battle for Madelyn's hand. It was unfathomable.

It was something that the Araphen Marquess could not bear.

The Marquess growled and moved his hand to point towards the doorway.

"Get out of my sight."

Lyn was absolutely stunned, as was Kent.

"Wh- what?"

"I said to get out of my sight! You'll receive no aid from me!" Xaviour thundered, giving voice to all of his pent-up fury. What little furnishings had survived the attempted coup rattled in the wake of his wrath.

"My Lord Xaviour!" Kent was positively aghast at this unexpected turn of events. "Why is this? You gave me your word!"

"My word has changed, because you failed to inform me that this miserable cur is so tainted with Sacean blood- the blood of savages! My men just fought to prevent Candell, a partial Terawin, from succeeding me; and I will die before I help a savage take a Lycian throne in any way!"

Xaviour punctuated his fever by sweeping his hand through space.

Instantly, a stone wall went up around Lyn. The plainswoman's face hardened into a blank mask that prevented anyone from seeing the hurt and fury that was contained within. No matter what happened, she would not allow this man to have the satisfaction of seeing her pain. She was not immune to the insults, but she was familiar with them.

A roar came up from Sain, with anger to match. The green knight literally jumped to his feet as he refused to bow to this creature any longer. His pride and chivalry refused to allow anyone to insult his lady so flippantly, and he refused to give anyone who did his respect.

"What? How dare you hurl such foul words against my liege!" Sain fumed as began stalking towards the Marquess. "You lousy-!"

"Sain!" Dismay filled that single word as Kent hastened to throw a restraining arm before his companion.

With his progress barred, the blond cavalier stopped his impending assault on Xaviour.

"Such coarse action." The Marquess clucked his tongue in disapproval. "I would have thought that Wallace would have trained you better."

Kent flushed at that insult. The red-haired cavalryman desperately tried to retain his self control and to appeal to Xaviour's human nature. He succeeded in the former, but failed utterly in the latter.

"Please, accept my apolo-"

"No, Kent!" Now it was Lyn who swept out an arm to silence the knight. The green-haired plainswoman looked up and locked her pride-filled eyes with the venomous stare of the Araphen monarch. "You will not apologize to him. You have no reason to."

The redhead turned to his liege in shock. The past few minutes were taking their toll on his ability to follow the occurring events. Had Lyn just... defended him?

"My... lady?" The knight asked curiously.

"He has insulted you without remorse and treated you like dirt beneath his heels. I will not have a worthier man groveling before him." Lyn declared firmly. He words were true, Kent had proven himself to be a kind and gentle man, she would not have him verbally abused without cause. It was time to end this conversation before things grew any worse.

Xaviour opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as the Sacean continued on.

"Nor will I ever accept aid from anyone who dares to insult the gift of my heritage: the Sacean blood that flows through my veins. That is a crime I cannot forgive." The green-haired woman glared at the Marquess. "I am Lyn, Wraith of the Lorca. I can not and will not turn my back on my people, nor accept 'charity' from those who do. I will make it to Caelin and I will reunite with my grandfather- without your promised aid!"

"... Then go." Xaviour spat the words out bitterly.

Lyn turned and stormed from the room. Sain and Kent hastened to follow their liege. The green knight was angry at the entire situation, while the red-haired cavalier was mortified at the sudden turn of events. Neither one spoke as they left.

Mark, who had remained silent throughout the proceedings, studied the Marquess for one long moment. Then he too silently left the room.

Marquess Xaviour stifled a roar of fury and turned his back on the doorway. The aging monarch took a long step forward and sent his fist crashing down onto the armrest of his throne. He needed to vent his anger in some way, and the throne had presented itself as the first available target.

A sharp hiss filled the air.

Xaviour's eyes widened as he realized he was that the small wyvern from earlier was staring at him. The creature squarbled at the seething Marquess and then settled himself defiantly within the crook of the throne's seat- he was obviously daring the man to try and remove him from his nest.

Xaviour was forced to turn back to the doorway and thunder at anyone within hearing range.

"Get this thing out of here!"

* * *

The green knight of Caelin stepped free of the castle walls, entered the outside world and launched into an eruption of anger. Lyn and Kent shared his feelings, but opted to calm themselves through other means.

"BAH! That was a complete waste of time!" Sain gave voice to his disgust. "What a complete lout. Even if he had carried out his promise, I'm certain that he would have messed everything up and let us leave with a cart full of sponges!"

From their place beside the castle gates, the rest of the Legion looked up at the outburst. Questions and blank looks filled the members' faces as they tried to deduct the meaning behind Sain's cryptic outburst. One thing was blatantly obvious, things had not gone as planned.

Wil, having most seniority among the rest of the Legion (with the exception of Florina), was silently and unanimously declared to be the spokesman for the rest of the company. The archer swallowed nervously, and, upon feeling his allies' gaze at his back, stepped forward to inquire about the recent events.

"What happened in there? You three look like you're ready to explode."

Kent felt his mouth go dry at the thought of answering that question. He had no desire to revisit the conversation with the Marquess; or to bring up the charges laid against his liege. Mercifully, Mark stepped forward and intervened before the cavalier could say anything.

"Marquess Xaviour has gone back on his word. He is more concerned with repairing the damage caused by the coup than with helping traveling mercenaries." The raven-haired tactician explained diplomatically. "He refuses to spare any resources for us."

It wasn't a completely lie on Mark's part. Xaviour probably was going to spend the money he would have invested in Lyndis' Legion on repairing the damage done. All the tactician had done was omit the snarling hatred against all things Sacean that had practically radiated from the nobleman.

"Ah... I see." The redheaded archer nodded slowly.

Abruptly, there was a rustle of wings and a sharp scream. Mark looked to the sky and discovered Romeo being forcibly ejected from the castle. The wyvern snapped at the unfortunate attendant who was ushering him from the premises, but quickly lost interest in prolonging the inevitable. The winged serpent flew to his master, who was giving the signal to return.

"Alright..." Mark continued to address those assembled. "We should move on. Gather the supplies and horses and mount up; we're going to leave this city to its own devices."

The rest of the Legion hastened to comply.

While the tactician had been dealing with the rest of the company, Kent, Sain and Lyn had been concluding their own conversation.

"My Lady Lyndis, I... I cannot apologize enough. I did not mean to subject you to such... an event." The red knight's expression was one of complete regret. "I didn't stop to consider the strong sentiments that ran through this territory, nor the impact they might have on you. Please forgive me."

Lyn felt suddenly weary as the last vestiges of emotion drained from her mind. The audience with Xaviour had been taxing, and taken a large part of her mental resource to overcome. Now she was left with little strength in reserve. Still, the Sacean tried to pull herself together and to put on a strong front for those around her.

"Don't worry, Kent. You did the best that you could; I can't fault you for that."

The red-haired cavalier nodded his appreciation, but dared not speak. The guilt and weight of all that had happened was still eating at his soul. To give any voice to that would not be wise.

"Yes, I think it would be best if we were to forget all of this." Sain swept his arms wide as if encompassing the entire city. "The ravings of a madman hold not store for us. It would be best to move on."

"I agree." The plainswoman nodded.

"As do we all." Mark's voice entered the conversation.

The two cavaliers and the Sacean turned to find that the rest of the company had mounted their horses and were waiting to depart. The tactician offered the trio a small, sympathetic grin. He was not ignorant of their feelings, but felt that it wasn't his place to address them before the entire Legion.

"Yeah, this place is wearin' on me." Wil chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. He didn't know what all had happened in the castle, but he knew that it wouldn't be wise to dwell on it. "I think the architecture is kinda depressing; how about we go someplace less confining?"

"I am ready to leave at any time." Dorcas gave a quiet agreement.

"There's nothing to hold us here." Mark commented. "Let's shake the dust of this city off and be on our way. Caelin still awaits us."

"Where you lead... I'll... follow." Florina offered.

A quarter of a smile passed over Lyn's lips. It didn't matter what the nobility or the Marquess' thought of her. The Legion was still by her side, and they didn't care about her past or heritage. They were worth much more than the bitter words of one old man.

"Then let's be off." The plainswoman moved to her horse and easily pulled herself into the saddle.

Kent and Sain climbed to the top of their horses and voiced their readiness to leave.

It appeared that everyone was in unanimous consensus to move on... with the exception of one. Matthew's voice split through the air- and caused to Legion to jump in surprise. They had completely forgotten about the thief's presence.

"Well, thought you could sneak off without me, didn't you? Is that the thanks I get?"

"What's done here is done." Matthew moved and then, without waiting for permission, jumped atop Dorcas' horse and settled himself in behind the fighter. "I don't know what all happened and I can't say as I care. So, where are we heading to next?"

Mark exchanged a blank look with Lyn. Neither of which was entirely sure what to make of the spectacle that was Matthew's antics.

"He... is a very odd fellow." The Sacean commented.

"That he is... and... its not too late to leave him behind, you know."

_**End**_

(1) In FE8, during Lute's supports with Vanessa, the flight mechanics of Pegasi are discussed. Granted, some dislike the explanation, or don't consider it to fit the sprites or graphics; but it works and adds a nice edge to the characters so I'm going to run with it.


	8. Love

A.N.: Before this chapter begins, I wish to apologize to everyone for the massive delay with this chapter. A serious case of writer's block, followed by the fact that this is my least favorite chapter in all of FE7, conspired to delay this update. Nevertheless, here it is. That's the bad news. The good news is that three-quarters of the next chapter is already finished, so that update should be along shortly.

Second, I'd like to thank all those who reviewed the last chapter, and yes, I did mistake 'Lundgren' for 'Xaviour' in that line. I'll be correcting that after the final chapter is posted when I fix the other minor errors that have been pointed out. Thank you all, and I appreciate the feedback very much.

_**Begin!**_

_Aside from a few minor setbacks (Brother Fire, did I just call bandit attacks a 'minor setback'?), our progress has been uneventful. We're almost to Caelin, only a week separates us from the castle._

_-- Mark, Wraith of the Lorca._

* * *

"You can't be serious!"

"I am! Hold him down!"

"He's our Marquess!"

"I'm just a hired blade, he ain't my leader. Get out of the way!"

"But-"

"SCRAM! And get that silent wretch out of the way!"

"S... stop..."

"Just shut up and guzzle this, your brother thinks it'll finally do you in... Why you haven't died before now is anyone's guess."

"GAH!"

Several minutes had passed before the scene had fully played itself out. And when all was said and done, the Marquess Hausen had had a full vial of potent venom forced down his throat.

As the mercenaries exited the room, leaving Hausen coughing and gagging on his bed, Abigail, the silent servant picked herself up from the room's floor. The woman, recovering from the blow that had sent her spiraling to the ground, slowly righted herself and pushed her tangled hair into a semblance of order.

The brown-haired woman slowly regathered her wits and came to understand all that had transpired. She pushed herself to her feet and looked over at her employer.

Hausen was caught in an unceasing bought of coughs that were forcing convulsions from his already weakened body.

Instantly, Abigail went into motion. The woman rushed to the Marquess' bedside and turned her attention to his nightstand. A single glass of water had miraculously survived the chaos that had turned the rest of the room into shambles.

The servant girl produced a small, but thickly-woven, cloth sack from the sleeves of her dress. Abigail extracted a handful of grainy, yellow powder from the sack and poured it into the glass. The water contained therein grew murky as the concoction dissolved into the liquid. She picked up the glass and moved to the weakened Marquess' side.

The woman pressed the glass to the man's lips. Hausen clamped his lips together and drilled the servant with a suspicious, but weak, look.

Abigail just looked at the man with pleading eyes.

The aging noble decided that he had nothing to lose. He accepted the gift and almost gagged as the bitter concoction hit his tongue and flooded down his throat. His trust was not in vain, for Hausen was amazed at how quickly the medicine began to aid him and work to calm the poisoned fury that was raging in his stomach and lungs.

A few minutes passed, as the Marquess' attack gradually ceased. The entire scenario had left him weakened and exhausted, but alive.

But, despite his condition, Hausen was left with a multitude of questions over all that had transpired. The aging grandfather gathered all of his strength and used it to put two single words into the air.

"Antitoxin... Why?"

He received no answer.

* * *

Mark closed the ledger with a heavy sigh. He then proceeded to drop his elbows onto the thick book and followed that feat by introducing his forehead to his hands. The tactician sat there for a long moment, taking refuge in his induced blindness, and trying to block out the worries that were assaulting his mind.

Eventually, the raven-haired man was forced to return to reality. He looked up and stared out of the inn's window and into the darkness beyond- completely lost in thought.

A familiar voice split the air, bringing the tactician out of his reverie.

"Mark?"

The tactician looked up to find Kent standing in the entrance of the room. The red knight of Caelin crossed the room and slowly dropped onto one of the two beds that decorated the otherwise sparsely furnished room.

"Our worst fears have been confirmed." The tactician admitted.

"You mean...?"

"I'm afraid so."

Mark pulled the ledger open, hating the very action, and shifted through its pages until he found his latest entry. He ran a finger down the columns, hoping that he had made a mistake somewhere down the lines, but was saddened to discover that that was not the case. Regardless of what the numbers said, the physical currency that they carried indicated their problem.

"The fact stands that, after paying to have Dorcas' horse reshod, the Legion is now in possession of exactly Fifty Two Gold Pieces, Seven Bronze and Two Coppers. Thankfully, the villagers took pity on us after we drove off those bandits and let us have these rooms for the night. Otherwise we really would be in a mess."

Kent stared off into the distance as he tried to force his mind to change its train of thought and consider this new development. He was only marginally successful, but managed to make a coherent comment.

"Can we make it to Caelin?"

"I think that you're the better judge of that than I am. I've never had to budget for such a group before." Mark allowed himself a heavy sigh as he stared at the ledger's numbers, wishing them to change through force of will. "But if my figures are anywhere near accurate, we're going to have to either drastically cut back everything we're allowing or find something we can pawn to raise funds."

A long pause filled the air, prompting the tactician to realize that his companion was not altogether present. The raven-haired mage looked across to the cavalier and noted the blank look upon the other's face.

"I suppose its my turn to ask. Is there something on your mind?" Mark ventured.

Kent hesitated for a brief moment, then he shook his head to the negative.

"No, its nothing."

The raven-haired man considered this notion for a moment, and then accepted it for what it was. Something told him that pushing the cavalier on this issue was not the best choice of action. So, he dropped the conversation

"Alright. Just thought I'd ask."

The red-haired cavalier nodded wearily. After a moment's pause, he stood up and began walking towards the room's doorway, indicating that he was leaving the room. Abruptly, Kent paused and turned back to the tactician. A questioning look was upon his face.

"Mark... If I may... why are you here?"

A raised eyebrow came from the tactician, who clearly had not anticipated this query.

"Why? Because I want to be."

"And... why is that?"

Mark studied the cavalier for a long moment, trying to fathom the reason for such a question. At length, he decided that it wasn't just simple curiosity that prompted the appeal. But a more subtle desire. He decided to be bluntly honest.

"I met Lyn a few days before you did." The tactician admitted. "We met on the plains. Her tribe was gone; she was living alone, barely surviving and harboring this notion of single-handedly taking on the Taliver...

"When I met Lyn, it was rather obvious that she wouldn't survive too much longer. If the environment didn't kill her, then the Taliver would. And when I looked at her, I didn't just see her, but I saw Miriam as well. I could see the same helplessness and confusion in Lyn that Miriam would have experienced after the Ostian affair. Her situation tugged at me, and so I agreed to let her travel with me."

"Miriam..." Kent spoke the name slowly and reverently. "She was... your sister?"

"Correct."

There was another brief pause, and then the redhead continued the conversation.

"So, are you helping Lyn for... Miriam or for Lyn?"

"That's a fair question." Mark admitted. "I will admit, that I was tempted to see her that way. So much so that I was forced to distance myself from her when we first started out. But, now I'm fairly sure that I'm helping Lyn because she's Lyn. I want to see her to Caelin so that she can reunite with her grandfather. It would only be right."

"I... see..." Kent turned those statements over in his mind. At length, he excused himself and left the room.

The tactician watched him go with a glimmer of understanding.

* * *

In a fit of uncharacteristic behavior, Kent left the inn behind and began walking aimlessly through the city streets. He had no particular destination in mind; his thoughts were spilled about in no semblance of order and that made it impossible for him to concentrate on any task at all. He had to clear his head or he would be of no use to anyone.

He was very confused.

As far back as Kent could remember, his destiny had been set. His father had been a knight in the service of Castle Caelin, as had his grandfather. He was to be a knight as well. It was set in the record of history, all that he had to do was play his part.

Being a knight meant that you were grave, serious, vigilant and watchful. You pledged your life in the service of another on the hope that that person would act to aid any and all of his subjects in their plights. You were to be the sword that delivered justice and the shield that deflected all assault. Kent had embraced this role and strove to be a prime example of a knight.

But, to the best of his knowledge, being a knight did not mean that you could expect your lady to defend you.

Kent had been floored when his Lady Lyndis had cut off his pleas to Marquess Xaviour for aid and defended him before the noble. Quite honestly, that simple action should never have occurred. His life had been dedicated to Marquess Hausen, who had ordered him to bring Lyndis back to him. If that had meant begging Marquess Xaviour for help then the red knight was not above such an action. He was of common birth, his pride and dignity meant nothing.

But Lyndis seemed to think differently.

That entire concept was so foreign to him that Kent could hardly believe it had transpired. Never before had he heard of a noble willing to defend his servant's honor. That Lyndis would care enough for him to intervene on his behalf was staggering, and left the cavalier unsure of where he stood.

Kent had desired to help Lyndis all along- primarily because Marquess Hausen had ordered him too. That simple order had been enough for the cavalier to set his wants and needs so that they all revolved around seeing Lyndis to Caelin. He had striven with all of his being to make it so.

But now, his world view had been turned on its head. The red-haired knight felt off-balance after that experience, but he also felt a strange mixture of appreciation, shame, and wonder. He had known before hand that Lyndis knew nothing of social standings or the tree of nobility. Actually seeing those facts affect her was another matter. Her outburst in front of Marquess Xaviour had proven that she didn't see Kent and an expendable servant, but as a comrade and friend.

Could he honestly claim to feel the same?

He wasn't sure; but he felt a strong desire to return the notion. He was just entirely unable to figure out how.

The red knight of Caelin turned a corner and started down another alleyway.

* * *

Lyn's gaze turned to the skies above, and she reveled in the simplicity put forth there. No matter where she was, no matter what her surroundings, the sky was always the same. And that simple fact was enough to be a source of comfort to her.

The green-haired Lorcan continued her pace as she performed her habitual nightly walk- and enjoyed the offered peace. Three months alone had taken its toll on her; for while she was glad that she was no longer alone, and happy that she had friends again, she was also entirely unable to put up with them for long periods of time. Eventually it would reach a point to where she just needed to escape and be by herself for a few moments.

But, as fate would have it, that was not to be tonight.

The Sacean turned a street corner and was startled to find none other than Florina a short distance ahead of her. The Illian also appeared to be taking a walk, as she was slowly moving throughout the city streets.

A rush of guilt sped through Lyn's veins. She realized that in all that had gone on over the past few days, she had simply neglected to spend much time with her friend. They had shared tents and conversation, but it had all been very rushed and without substance. That needed to be rectified.

The woman quickened her step, and rushed forward to join her lavender-haired companion's side. Lyn issued a quick call for Florina's attention.

"Florina!"

The pegasus knight jumped in surprise and turned to discover her companion. Florina smiled in welcome and waited for her friend to arrive.

"Lyn! Hello!"

A quick smile spread across the Lorcan's face.

"'Hello' to you too, Florina. What are you doing out here... and at such a late hour?"

Florina flushed, but managed to retain her cheerfulness.

"Its... ah... nothing important, I was just thinking."

"Oh? About what?"

"Just about... things... changes..." The lavender-haired Illian tried to sidestep the question.

Lyn grinned as she realized what her friend was doing, and she wasn't about to tolerate it. She decided to press on with her questions.

"What kind of things?"

"Uh... 'Stuff' kind of things."

"What kind of 'stuff kind of things'?"

Realizing that there was no escape, and that eventually it would all come to light anyway, Florina unsuccessfully tried to contain the blush that spilled across her cheeks. The Illian suddenly became very interested in the ground as her voice dropped in volume.

"Just about the Legion... and what'll happen to everyone once we reach Caelin."

Lyn found herself puzzled at that statement. What was their about their destination that warranted concern? Yes, they might very well have to deal with Lundgren and fight a large-scale battle, but she had every confidence that they would win. Their recent skirmishes had honed all of their skills and abilities with their preferred weapons, and they had yet to lose one of their companions in battle. Their morale was high, what was there to be afraid of?

"Caelin? What about it?"

"Its... When we reach Caelin... the Legion'll fall apart. We'll all go our separate ways... And... things won't be the same." Florina's hesitation about speaking her mind began to falter in the face of the momentum she was developing. "I kind of like the way things are now and I'll be sad to see them end."

Understanding filled the Sacean plainswoman, for she could partially understand her friend's fears. The Legion had become somewhat of a substitute family for both of them, with everyone willing to chip in and help everyone else. They had been extremely fortunate in the members that they had found thus far. Once they actually reached their destination and fulfilled their goal, the Legion would disband and they would all follow their separate paths.

It would be like losing a family all over again.

"I know, it won't be easy to say goodbye to some of our comrades; but just think of those who will still be with us. Kent, Sain and Wil are all going to stay in Caelin, you'll still be able to see them any time you're in the area."

"I know... I'm just glad that I had this chance. I might not have succeeded any other way; you've... ah... all helped me so much... and I feel like I'm strong enough now to continue training as a Pegasus Knight... even if its not with the Legion."

Unknown to either of the two women, an extra set of ears was listening in on their conversation. From the darkened corner of a nearby alleyway, Matthew was silently eavesdropping on the conversation, and setting everything that he heard to memory. Every shred of knowledge he could possess about this strange band would be of use.

And as fate would have it, Matthew was not the only other one to be on the scene of this conversation. For another member was just about to reveal itself. Unlike the others who were present, this newcomer was not a battle-hardened veteran, but a scared child.

A sharp scream split the air, drawing the attention of Lyn, Florina and the unobserved Matthew. The two women spun around to trace the sound of the noise, and discovered a young boy with a mess of teal-colored hair scuffling and clawing with four men in dark robes.

One of the robed men had the child in a tight bear hug, and was refusing to let go. His decision to hang onto the boy was changed as the child bared his teeth and sank them into the man's arm.

The man shouted in pain and dropped his hold on the boy. Instantly, the child was in motion and racing off down the street- straight towards Lyn. The boy shouted for help, and locked his gaze upon the Sacean.

"Help! You've got to help me!" The teal-haired youth screamed. "Please, you can't let them take me!"

The boy's screams touched a chord with Lyn, who was instantly transplanted back to the destruction of her tribe. She had heard those pleas for help before, and had been entirely unable to do anything. Now, things were different. She could make a difference.

The plainswoman drew her sword from its sheathe and raised it defensively. The other men, seeing this, ceased their pursuit as they tried to size up the situation; this provided the boy with enough time to scramble to the relative safety of being behind Lyn.

"Alright, what's going on here?" The monad's eyes hardened as she studied the black-garbed men.

Florina, entirely flustered by this turn of events, finally caught on to all that was transpiring and did her best to appear brave. She suddenly wished that she had thought to bring her lance with her, but had not expected to run into trouble in the city streets. As a result, the Illian was weaponless.

"This would be none of your concern." One of the men stepped forward and entered into negotiations with the other party. "Our business is with the boy. Hand him over, and we'll let you live."

The Sacean refused to be intimidated. She had dealt with slurs against her tribe for years, and thought nothing of threats. It was the wrong track to take with her.

"Please, don't!" The boy begged. "Those men have been chasing us all afternoon. They kidnapped my sister and took her away- then almost got me too. You have to help her, they'll hurt her if they keep her!"

A gasp left Florina's throat at that bit of news. She knew how she would feel if someone were to steal off with one her siblings. Her resolve tightened, and she silently vowed to protect this child at all costs.

"Is this true?" Lyn kept her gaze riveted at the robed men.

"We are the Black Fang!" The leader snapped. "You would do well to cooperate with us! Those who go against us experience our wrath!"

"I'll never turn a child over to the likes of you." The woman countered. "Leave him alone and return his sister!"

The Black Fang members looked at each other for a split second, weighing the advantages and disadvantages of each path available to them. Then, as one, they each produced a thick, leather-bound book that was filled with a strange, guttural language.

Lyn's heart stopped. She had seen those tomes before in her tactician's hands. She knew what they were.

_-Shamans!-_

The assassins raised their palms, and immediately their tomes began glowing. In response to their call, the shadows and darkness that lined the alleyway swirled about and solidified into sharp, solid stakes that launched themselves through the air. The magical attacks were heading straight towards their opponents.

The green-haired woman flinched in preparation to feel the pain and agony of the connecting attacks. Her action turned out to be unwarranted, as she was not the intended target. Lyn's eyes widened as she realized that the magical energies were swirling straight for: "Florina!"

* * *

Elsewhere in the city, Romeo burst into a sharp scream and began clawing at his owner's window.

Mark took one look at the wyvern, then snatched up his own magical tome and bolted to the doorway. He had to get the Legion up and ready for action. Something was going down somewhere.

* * *

The Sacean turned to find that, somehow, the Illian and the child had avoided their grisly demise. Florina had snatched the child and pulled him from the path of the mystical daggers, saving his life.

The lavender-haired knight smiled weakly to show that she was safe, and then her expression turned to one of horror.

"Lyn, look out!"

The nomad woman darted to one side, avoiding another onslaught of energy. Lyn came out of her maneuver, righted her balance, and then cast a quick look over the situation. She quickly realized that she had no hope of winning this fight if she stayed on the defensive. Her only hope was to go all out in attack.

"Florina, get him to safety, I'll handle these men!"

"Ah... are... you sure you can?"

"Yes, just go!"

The pegasus knight grabbed the child and began pulling him to safety. She was fearful of leaving her friend alone, but the Illian realized that she would be more of a hindrance than a help at this point. Florina had to find Huey and get this child to a safe place, quickly.

Lyn, meanwhile, was fighting for her life. The green-haired Sacean was darting about in a zig-zag fashion, racing back and forth as she attempted to draw closer to her assailants. Her progress was greatly hampered by the shadowy projectiles that were being fired at her, which she had to take great care to avoid.

The Sacean closed in on the nearest magic user and swept her blade through space. Scarcely had her opponent fallen than was she forced to abort her attack run, lest she walk straight into another magical barrage.

Lyn was forced to go on the defensive.

Enraged over the loss of one of their numbers, the other sages renewed their assault with vigor. Shadows and projectiles filled the sky, and created a virtual wall that prevented the plainswoman from drawing close enough to attack.

Amidst the rain of mystical energy, Lyn caught the briefest glance of a physical object. Barely had she registered the item to be a javelin, than did it strike down another of the sages and remove him from the battle. Someone had come to her aid.

That action brought the entire battle to a halt as everyone tried to come to terms with what had happened. The sages ceased their onslaught and glanced about in an effort to locate this previously unknown sniper. They did not have to wait long.

Kent emerged from a nearby alleyway with his lance in hand. The red-haired knight of Caelin brandished it about with a defensive flourish, and then eyed the opposition warily. He had no idea why this battle had come about, but it was his duty to finish it... and he had a personal debt to repay.

A shout went up from another assassin. A moment later the scream faltered as the black-garbed man crashed into the ground, lifeless.

Matthew gave a casual toss of his dagger. The thief caught the weapon by the hilt and then vanished back into the darkness that settled over them.

The tide of the battle turned in the face of these two new allies. Kent's skill with the javelin provided a ranged attack to match those being hurled at them. The mage's strength lay in their ability to strike from afar without fear of reprisal, the projectile removed that safeguard and rendered the magicians vulnerable. Matthew proved to be quite adept at striking out unseen and hastily retreating. Lyn lacked the advantage that either of the other two had, but more than made up for it with the power she possessed. Although her time to draw close, rarely did it take her more than one strike to finish the exchange.

All of this was not lost on the Black Fang. Once it became apparent that the tied of the battle had turned, the men were more than willing to retreat. The two remaining assassins fired off a pair of shielding spells simultaneously, and fled into the darkened alleyways.

Kent relaxed, upon realizing that the battle had been won. The red knight of Caelin turned and tried to take stock of the situation. He was surprised to find Lyn racing off after the black robed men as quickly as she could.

The red-haired knight scrambled to catch up to his liege.

"Hurry!" Lyn gasped between breaths. "Don't let them get away!"

The cavalier had no idea what was going on, or why the plainswoman was so determined to destroy these men. But he had been with Lyn long enough to know that she would never act in such a fashion without some sort of reason; and he was willing to trust her judgment.

The two joined ranks, while Matthew seemed content to stay in the shadows. The thief didn't visibly join the two, but something told them that he was around.

Their pursuit continued on. The sounds of running and ragged breaths were the only sounds in the dark night, and the only indication as to where anyone was or where they were headed.

Abruptly, the two burst out into a wide street. Lyn and Kent both turned about, looking for any sign of their prey. They didn't have time to finish the action. Twin spheres of darkness ripped through the air and sliced into the Cavalier and the Sacean as literally as any physical blade could.

Lyn dropped to her knees as the magical attack passed, gasping from the sudden pain. She willed the lingering sensations of agony to leave her body, to allow her to get to her feet and renew the fight. But they would not.

Although he was hurting, Kent was still standing on his feet. His posture was unsteady. The cavalier was breathing heavily and struggling to retain his senses. He'd never been on the receiving end of a magical attack before, and the experience had taught him that he'd never want to be again. There was no physical damage done to him, but something had ripped through his very being and sapped his strength and will only to leave pain in its place.

Together, the two comrades looked up to discover what had gone on. Almost instantly, they noted the Black Fang members standing at the mouth of the alleyway with spell books drawn and at the ready.

They had been led straight into a trap.

Lyn tried to force herself to her feet, to shift position or to just move. She knew that she was in no shape to withstand another assault. If the assassins attacked again, then it could be the end of her.

Kent, through supreme force of will, managed to drag himself forward. The cavalier placed himself defiantly between his liege and the shamans. His intent was clear, he would not allow Lyn to die today. His marquess had asked him to see her safely to Caelin, and he would see it...

No...

The cavalier started as he recognized that train of thought and stopped it. Lyndis did not care about his rank or his peerage. She had defended him because she thought him to be a good man. Now it was time to return the favor. He would not die because she was his lady, he would defend her because she was truly worthy of serving.

The red knight of Caelin rallied himself and set his very being on the task of defending Lyndis.

The shamans smirked and readied another spell. One of them grinned as he rattled off a thick line of gutturals.

A thick whistle split the air, followed by a meaty smack. The shaman gaped in open horror as an arrow came through the air to split his shoulder in two. The impact knocked the magician around and dropped him heavily to the floor.

Before the other Black Fang member could realize what had happened, shafts of light ripped through the air to collide with the assassin. The man dropped to the ground as if the luminous beams had been a physical blade.

Lyn turned to find that the rest of the Legion had arrived. Wil and Dorcas were lowering their respective weapons, while Mark was sending a questioning gaze in the two's direction. The Sacean paid this no mind, she was just relieved that Florina and the boy were standing amidst her companions- unharmed.

There was also another person with the Legion, whom Lyn did not recognize. The man wore the white robes of the Eliminean church, and sported a fair amount of pale yellow hair. He was also clutched a thick tome, so the plainswoman was forced to conclude that it had been he who had turned those beams of light against their foes.

The newcomer stepped forward, and moved to join the defeated Black Fang. He paused over the two and began to administer some sort of last rite.

"My Lady Lyndis," Kent turned check on his liege. "are you well?"

"I am fine. And you?"

"I am alright." The red knight of Caelin replied, in literal truth.

A 'literal' truth was all that that was, for while Kent was, indeed, 'alright', he was also quite frustrated with himself. He had become so involved with his own problems and perspective that he had allowed his guard to become all too lax. Lyn been in danger, and he had almost missed out on that fact. The back of the cavalier's mind knew that he could not be to blame, for Lyn would have refused to allow him to accompany her on her nightly walk, but that held little sway at the moment.

"Good, then I believe that Florina and..." Lyn was forced to come to a halt as she realized that she had no idea what the lad in question's name was. "... the boy are safe."

"The boy?" The knight echoed as he looked at the youth in question.

"Yes, he was in trouble and we lent him some assistance. These men were after him."

Kent made no verbal reply, but nodded to show his understanding.

"Yes, he made some allusion to that fact before." Mark nodded slowly as he fixed the child with a look. "Well, you're safe for the moment. So, why don't you tell us what's going on? Why were those men after you?"

For the first time since the battle had started, Lyn had enough time to properly examine the youth. The boy could scarcely have been more than twelve or thirteen years old, for he was so short. The youth had a shock of teal hair and wore clothes of similar green. A grungy shirt, thick scarf, and a pair of shorts completed his attire. What struck Lyn most, however, was the fact that the boy's eyes were a thick and red... blood red...

"My name is Nils. My sister and I are a pair of performers traveling with a convoy, we got separated from the others and then those men came after us. They kidnapped Ninian, and almost got me too, before you intervened..."

Nils took a moment to cast a quick, pleading look around at his newfound companions. A look of urgency and horror filled his face.

"Please, you've got to help her! There's no telling what'll happen to her now that those men have her! You guys look like mercenaries, so you do this sort of thing all the time, right? I don't have a lot, but I'll give you everything I've got if you'll just help me and rescue Ninian, please!"

Kent shot a quick look towards Lyn, who was frowning with concentration. The Lorcan quickly came to a conclusion on the matter.

"Don't worry, we'll get your sister back."

"You will? Thank you!" Nils' joyful expression quickly dropped and became bitter instead. He had just made a startling revelation, one that changed the entire situation. "... but, we don't know where they've taken her."

Lyn and Kent exchanged a quick look at that point. Neither of them had any way to counter the point, as the boy was right. They had no idea where the Black Fang would have taken Ninian, and little to no idea how to find out.

"Excuse me..."

The red-haired knight turned to find the priest standing behind him. The man was calmly waiting for the other's attention before he proceeded.

"Who are you?"

"Ah, forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Lucius, I saw what was happening, how Nils was being treated, and wished to aide him. I think I may know where his sister has been taken."

"You do!?" Nils broke forward and studied the priest. "How?"

"One of the, er, Black Fang had not quite departed from this world. He confided in me during his final moments and revealed the location of their hideout. It seems that there's an outpost fortress just outside the city. Ninian is being held there."

"A fortress to the northeast..." Lyn repeated.

"Assaulting their headquarters will slow us down, and no doubt make Lundgren aware of our presence." Kent pointed out. "He would know exactly where we're coming from and have time to plan accordingly."

"I know. But I can't stand by and leave Nils' alone. I know what it is to lose someone you care about, someone dear to you. I would never wish that pain upon anyone. I can't leave him here alone; I'm sorry, Kent. We have to help him."

The red-haired knight shook his head.

"You have no reason to apologize. I will be by your side no matter what you decide."

Mark was frowning throughout the exchange; not over the two's interaction, but over Nils' story. Something felt very wrong with the entire thing, and he was noticing several little details that were unnerving...

The tactician was startled out of his thoughts as he caught Lyn calling for his attention.

"What do you think, Mark? Can we succeed?"

The fact of the matter was, they couldn't. Their funds were already dangerously low; to add any sort of delay to their trip would be to condemn them to run dry. Their biggest battle was going to be the moment that they set foot of Caelin soil, where Lundgren was certain to come after them with everything that he possessed. If they were not prepared accordingly, then they were dooming themselves to failure.

But, the shaman knew that look upon the Lorcan's face, and he knew how important this would be to her. If at all possible, he would make it work.

"I do. It'll be tricky, but I believe that it can be done. The Legion's diverse enough to handle many situations, our weapons are in good shape, and morale is high. We can do this."

* * *

"Mail call!" Matthew chortled as he emerged from the nearby treeline and brandished a decent-sized scroll. The enigmatic thief bypassed the other members of the Legion and moved straight to confer with their tactician.

Mark accepted the scroll and opened it. He was amazed to discover that a finely crafted map of their targeted fortress had been created, in fair detail, and then guard positions marked accordingly.

"How did you do this?"

"I told you, I specialize in thieving information." The thief grinned. "This was nothing, really. I've had more difficult assignments."

That comment earned him a questioning look from the shaman.

"Don't ask, don't tell." Matthew tossed the suspicion aside.

"Right... well, regardless, I think you just earned the right to all future scouting missions. Romeo's good, but not even he can provide me with this much information." Mark spoke as he studied the offered map.

An offended squawk filled the air. A split second later, Matthew was forced to duck as the aforementioned wyvern dove through the space his head had occupied mere moments ago.

"Yeesh, jealous little thing, isn't he?"

Mark made an uncommitted grunt, indicating that he wasn't fully paying attention.

"Right, well then, I'll just be on my way. Toodles!"

Upon arriving at the Black Fang fortress, Matthew had been dispatched to gather as much information about the fortress as possible. The thief had returned with more news than expected, and bolstered their chances of success exponentially. This left the cheerful man feeling quite pleased with himself as he left the tactician to his own devices.

A short time later, all was in readiness. Mark called the Legion together and began handing out assignments. Within a sundial degree, everyone had their orders and was ready to follow them.

"Alright. You all know what to do." The tactician concluded. "Now, you all must remember you signals; because if you fail to follow them everything could fall apart. Are you ready?"

Everyone reported that they were.

"Good. Then let's begin!"

And it did.

* * *

Two Black Fang guards looked up in surprise. The steady beat of horse's hooves filled the air, and the clomping sound drew the soldier's attention. Instinctively, the two soldiers picked up their swords and peered out into the gloomy night.

Twin lances, one of brilliant red and the other a forest green, split through the air- and the guards. The two sentries collapsed to the ground as their mounted attackers reared their horses and unleashed a war-cry.

Kent shouted as he pushed his horse into a gallop. Sain mimicked his motion and followed just behind the rider. The two were carrying out their purpose in Mark's battle plans. They had been ordered to rouse the fortress and draw as much attention as possible. The two tore around the fortress at a frantic pace, and struck out to wound or eliminate any Black Fang they came across.

The Black Fang, however, was not about to take this assault unchallenged; the assassination guild retaliated by opening the outpost's gates and allowing their trained forces to deploy. The black-robed soldiers immediately targeted the two cavaliers and chased after them.

"Hah! You think that you can keep up with Caelin's finest! Come, waste your skills by trying to stop us!" Sain hollered over his shoulder as he continued to circle the fortress at a mad pace. By now, so many soldiers and attackers littered the field that it was impossible for the knight to actually mount any coordinated attack. He was forced to concentrate entirely on dodging the attacks, arrows and javelins being hurled in his direction. Sain relegated any damage he might have caused to pure happenstance and concentrated on staying alive.

Kent, too, was mostly concerned with escaping injury. He had been ordered to rouse as much attention as possible and draw the Black Fang forces from the refuge of the outpost. If the number of airborne projectiles were any indication, the red-haired knight supposed that he had fulfilled this order splendidly.

The red knight of Caelin reared his mount to avoid a stray axe-stroke and urged his mount into a run. Saleh responded and shot away from their attackers, accidentally trampling a Black Fang mercenary in the process.

Sain emerged from the crowd of angry soldiers and joined his comrade.

"Break to the hills, now!" Kent barked.

"Yes, Master General, sir!" Sain laughed in reply.

His mirth was quickly silenced as an arrow passed dangerously close to his eyes.

The two cavaliers broke for freedom and raced off towards their ultimate destination. Unfortunately, the Black Fang guild had been thoroughly aroused and were more than willing to continue the fight. The soldiers chased after the two cavaliers, and began hurling ranged attacks and insults after the two knights.

The red-haired knight cast a quick glance over his shoulder and adjusted his pace so that their pursuers would not lose them. He wanted to be followed.

The pursuing Black Fang did not disappoint. They continued to hound and follow the cavaliers with single-minded determination.

Sain grinned as he watched their attackers follow after them. If only they knew that they were being led to their demise, they might not be so eager to fight.

The two horsemen passed between two hills that were shrouded with thick foliage. Immediately upon passing the grove of trees, the comrades brought their horses to a stop and then circled about to face their opponents. They then waited for the Black Fang to catch up to them.

Their patience was rewarded.

The moment that the assassin guild soldiers passed between the two hills, Kent opened his saddlebag and allowed the pack's contents to have its freedom. Romeo immediately burst from the confining burlap and shot into the heavens with a loud '_squawk'._

At the sound of the wyvern's squarble, the rest of the Legion sprang into action.

Wil, Erk, and Lucius unleashed ranged attacks from their hidden positions within the tree line. Dorcas joined in with his hand axe. In the Black Fang's haste to pursue their attackers, they had completely forgotten that an enemy could be hiding within the dense foliage that lay across the hills on either side of them. It was from this position that the four members of Lyndis' Legion had attacked. Their actions caught several soldiers within their maneuver and removed them from the equation.

With surprise attacks being launched from the hills that bracketed the assassin soldiers, the army was caught completely off guard. Nevertheless, the Black Fang reacted quickly and adapted to this new event. Leaving those who had fallen in the initial ambush to their fate, the soldiers turned and charged straight into the trees. Although they lost some of their numbers in charging their attackers head on, the soldiers were resolute in their decision to abandon the cavaliers and deal with their ambushers.

That turned out to be a mistake.

Erk, upon seeing the incoming tide of Black Fang, took a moment to launch a large fireball into the air. The second signal in the attack had been sent.

Those who were waiting for that action performed their part of the battle.

Upon seeing the fireball headed towards the heavens, Kent and Sain spurned their horses into action and charged back into the midst of the assassin company. Their lances struck out with deadly accuracy and impaled any who came close.

Lyn burst from the trees and set to work. The Sacean lashed out with her blade and cut down any who dared to challenge her. Her sword skills were improving at an astonishing rate, but they had not grown to the point that she could emerge from a fight unscathed. The plainswoman was able to avoid any life threatening injury, but that did not prevent her from taking a few cuts and receiving some bruises.

Dorcas leaped from the trees and began taking down Black Fang with wide swings of his axe. Florina added her strength to the assault by performing diving attacks into the Black Fang from her perch atop Huey.

The tide of the battle had been set in the Legion's favor, and there would be no turning it back. The battle raged on and the war continued, but in the end Lyndis' Legion emerged victorious.

When the dust settled, the Legion emerged alive. Dorcas had received a nasty spear-wound to his shoulder, while Florina had taken a nasty gash across her right leg. The team of snipers had emerged relatively unscathed, as had Kent and Sain. Serra's healing abilities took care of the worst of the received wounds, and those that remained were of little consequence.

Mark melted out of the forest's shadows with Nils in tow. The teal-haired bard was obviously eager to investigate the fortress, and probably would have gone charging into the building had not the tactician kept a firm grasp on his collar.

The raven-haired shaman released a long breath upon seeing that his comrades were still alive, and then recalled Romeo from his heavenly flight. The wyvern descended to the man's shoulder, and waited to see what was next.

"Great work." The tactician applauded his friends and comrades. "Everything went very well."

"Hah, did you have any doubt that it would?" Sain smiled broadly as he accepted the praise. "We are Lyndis Legion- a band of heroes of undying fame. These sellswords were of no match to our prowess!"

"I would doubt that these were just mercenaries. They weren't of military stock; but they had some training... Its very unusual..." The red knight of Caelin noted.

"While its important that we won," Lyn interjected. "our task isn't over yet. Now we have to rescue Ninian."

"Right. I would guess that we just eliminated most of the fortress' soldiers, but any competent strategist would leave a token force inside to maintain the facility. We'll have to deal with them." Mark said.

"Then 'deal with them' we shall!" Sain shouted with a grand smile on his features. "Now then, let us be off! Our fair damsel, Lady Ninian awaits our heroic rescue!"

Mark and Kent exchanged a familiar look.

As it turned out, routing the castle was a fairly simple process. Wil and Erk proved to be quite proficient in sniping at their foes from around the fortress' hallway corners. Any who survived the initial onslaught were quickly cut down by Lyn or Kent.

In short order the outpost had been captured. Sain and Dorcas were assigned to stand watch over the fort's entrance, and then a quick, but thorough, search ensued as everyone tried to discover the whereabouts of the captive Ninian. Everything from the best rooms to the kitchen closets were searched and examined, but all of them turned up empty.

After their search had been concluded, the entire Legion regrouped at the front hall.

"She's not here." Kent stated, after everyone had given in their reports.

"Which means that the assassin was lying to throw us off track or Ninian has been moved to a different location." Mark admitted the obvious truth.

"I think that that last one might be closer to the truth." Wil spoke up. "I checked the stables, and someone obviously packed up and left in a hurry. Three horses were missing and there's enough evidence to show that they left recently."

"Those ravenous curs! They knew that they would fall before us, and so they decided to slink away like the cowards that they are!" Sain crossed his arms and adopted an annoyed tone.

"Oh, no... now what are we going to do?" For the first time since they had captured the fort, Nils spoke up. The teal-haired youth looked every bit as heartbroken as he sounded. "There's no telling where they could have taken Ninian..."

Mark frowned. Contrary to that statement, he had a very good idea where they might find the boy's sister; their destination would not be a pretty one. Although all of the Elibean nations officially shunned slavery, there were still those who exercised the practice behind closed doors. If this had been an average job, then they might very well find Ninian standing atop some auctioneer's block. The tactician glanced over and saw from the look on Lyn's face that she had come to this conclusion as well.

"Now what?" Nils repeated.

"If they left recently then they couldn't have gone too far." Lyn pointed out. "If we hurry, then we might be able to catch them."

"Its possible, the only difficulty would be in trying to follow them. Could you do that?" Mark asked the plainswoman. He then caught the questioning looks that Kent and Wil were exchanged and then hastened to explain. "Lyn was raised as a Sacean Lorcan. Lorcans are renowned for their ability to track animals and riders."

"Yes, most of the hired soldiers are horrid at covering your own tracks. Tracing their movements shouldn't be that difficult." The Sacean admitted.

"Then it sounds like we have somewhat of a plan." The tactician said. "Let's implement it."

Nils looked on at the proceedings in a state of wonder. Most of his short time on this earth had been hard and difficult. His teal hair and strange eyes were different than most humans, causing most to shun or abhor him and his sister. To see this group of strangers ignore his strange colorings, accept him as he was, and then rally to his aid was both entirely unexpected and bewildering. They seemed to genuinely care about his problems, and were willing to go to great lengths to help him. While he was grateful to have found them, he was still very bewildered over their actions.

Fate, however, had different ideas. The fickle creature that it was decided to halt the Legion's plans before they could be carried out.

A shout rose up from the outside corridor, drawing the Legion's attention. A moment later, Sain came racing into the main hall and issued a cry of alarm.

"There's a rider approaching from the east!" The green knight exclaimed. "He wears the armor and crest of a Pheraen soldier- and what's more, Ninian is with him!"

"What!?" The word left Nils' mouth as more of an exclamation than as a question. "Are you sure?"

"I could see her fair complexion from my post. There is no doubt to the resemblance, Ninian is with him!"

Immediately, Lyndis' Legion moved to investigate. The group moved to the entrance of the fortress and began scanning the eastern horizon. True to the cavalier's words, a single mounted horseman was rapidly approaching the outpost. The rider was moving at a slow, gentle pace, and dividing his attention between guiding his mount and supporting a slender, teal-haired girl.

The soldier looked up and adopted a concerned expression upon seeing the Legion, with weapons drawn, waiting on him. The red-haired horseman reached to his belt, and withdrew a slender, flexible sword- a rapier.

Lyn was trying to make sense of the situation. It was obvious that Ninian had been kept prisoner in this fortress, and that in a desperate attempt to maintain possession of the girl the Black Fang had taken her and fled. Further, Wil had said that three horses had gone missing... so why was a single rider now returning to the fortress that had just fallen? Surely, the Black Fang rider would know that their attackers would be waiting on him.

Nils wasn't the least bit concerned with such matters. The boy was just overjoyed to discover that his sister had finally been returned to him. The youth broke away from the others and raced straight towards the horseman and his sister.

"Ninian! Ninian, are you alright? Ninian!"

At the sound of her name, the teal-haired girl looked up with crimson orbs. Her expression softened and she smiled upon catching sight of Nils, her brother. Ninian waited for the horseman to come to a stop before the boy before she replied in a weak voice.

"Nils. I'm... fine."

"You don't look fine... you look... awful..." Nils pointed out with brotherly concern. "They didn't hurt you did they? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?"

The red-headed soldier dropped from his saddle and hit the ground. He then turned to help Ninian dismount from the horse with gentle grace. The newly freed girl thanked her rescuer profusely, and then turned to assure her brother that she was none the worse for wear.

Her statements were quickly revealed to be false, however, when Ninian faltered. The red-headed soldier was by her side in an instant, and supported her in her moment of weakness. The others, taking note of the girl's state, hastened to be of some assistance.

"Dorcas, Sain, get a tent set up!" Mark began issuing orders and providing some organization to the Legion's desire to help. "Florina, scout out the forests and make sure that there aren't any bandits lurking about with an eye to cause trouble."

The axeman and the cavalier hastened to comply and began establishing the healer's tent with practiced ease. Florina squeaked out an affirmative reply. She raced off toward Huey with a reassuring smile and a quick word of encouragement from Mark following her.

"Wil, Matthew, check the fortress over and see if the Fang left any medical supplies behind. Erk, help Serra set the tent up, we'll want her to look Ninian over and make sure that she really is alright."

If looks could kill, Mark would have been smoldering upon the grass at that moment. The tactician shrugged off the death-glare that Erk had delivered as Matthew and Wil raced into the outpost.

Lyn, meanwhile, had busied herself with trying to determine just what had happened to bring Ninian back to her brother.

Kent followed the plainswoman at a discreet distance and kept one hand on his weapon- just in case. The newcomer had already revealed that he had a rapier on hand and was no stranger to using it. If the red-haired man did decide to go on the offensive, then the cavalier wanted to be ready to intervene.

"Hello." The red-haired soldier performed a cursory half-bow and immediately straightened.

That action puzzled the red knight of Caelin. From the way that the newcomer spoke and carried himself, it appeared as if he were some sort of nobility, indicating that this man was not some sort of common mercenary.

That suspicion was quickly confirmed as the introduction continued.

"I was passing by when I found what appeared to be several men escorting Ninian off against her will. I decided to intervene, and upon driving off the men, decided to get her to the shelter of this outpost... You appear to be mercenaries, so I take it that you were hired to rescue the girl?"

"That assumption is close enough to the truth." Lyn took a step forward and continued her discussion with the newcomer. "I'm Lyn, Wraith of the Lorca... might I have your name?"

The red-haired soldier's eyes widened slightly as he failed to conceal his amazement. The man took a renewed interest in the Sacean, and began studying her intently.

"Lyn? You mean, 'Lyn' as in 'Lyndis'? The supposed heir to the Caelin throne...? No... No, that can't be... I see now, you have your grandfather's eyes..."

There was a sound of ringing metal as Kent's sword came free of its scabbard. The cavalier took a step forward and placed himself defiantly before his liege. Now that they had been discovered, there was no telling what this red-haired man would do; he planned on being ready for any eventuality. Mark broke free of whatever entanglements had seized his attention, and moved towards the confrontation with a Flux tome in hand.

"Peace!" The newcomer threw both of his hands up in a placating gesture. He took a step back and then continued. "I mean you no harm, my name is Eliwood, the son of Elbert, Marquess of Pherae. Your grandfather is close friends with my father, and it took me a moment to realize the resemblance between you."

Kent studied Eliwood, noting that the man's rapier was still resting within its sheathe. The cavalier's eyes probed over the lordling's armor, searching for any other weapons or tricks. Upon deciding that the newcomer wasn't concealing anything, the knight cast a quick glance at Mark- who nodded his agreement.

The red-haired cavalier returned his weapon to its holster and took a respectful step back.

"My apologies, Lord Eliwood. There have been many attempts on our Lady's life, and we have learned it best to be suspicious of all who learn of her true heritage."

"I understand; I can't fault you for looking out for your lord's wellbeing." Eliwood nodded in acceptance of the offered apology. He then turned his attention back to Lyn and continued. "But there can be no doubt, you truly are Lord Hausen's granddaughter."

Lyn accepted the statement gratefully. To hear someone outside of their situation reaffirm Kent and Sain's assessment was quite encouraging. Unfortunately, her raised hopes were quickly dashed as the lordling continued.

"And I'm afraid that I have some news for you, Lyndis. You may already know it, but I feel that I should warn you anyway."

"Warn us of what?"

"When Lord Hausen fell ill and became bedridden, Lundgren publicized that there is a Sacean impostor being escorted by two rogue knights who is making absurd claims to the throne. He's asking for the other Lycian territories to rally to his aid and help him stop a potential rebellion."

That comment had Mark's full attention. He took that small comment ran with it, examining all the possible meanings and repercussions that could be made from that small admission. The raven-haired shaman didn't like the scenarios that he came up with.

"Brilliant," The Bernian shook his head in amazement. "We were expecting Lundgren to try and keep everything quiet, but instead he turns around and makes it all public. This way he has full license to throw everything that he has at us."

"That... _bethra!_" Lyn punctuated her insult with a Sacean word that brought a raised eyebrow of surprise from her tactician. She saw his surprised look, and frowned at it. "You disagree?"

"Hardly. I agree that Lundgren's every bit a scoundrel; I'm just wondering if putting him at the level of a Taliver is being a little too generous to them. He's far worse in my opinion."

The plainswoman accepted this explanation and turned back to Eliwood with many questions to ask.

"What will happen? Do you think that the Lycian states will aid him in hunting us down?"

"I do not believe so." Eliwood shook his head knowingly. "The Lycian Charter forbids states to interfere in the affairs of another unless a conflict breaks out that would threaten the whole nation. Unless a civil war does break out, there's nothing anyone but Lundgren can do."

That statement brought another round of surprise to the tactician. The Marquess Araphen had offered them assistance, despite the fact that the Lycian Charter forbade him to interfere in Caelin affairs. Had Xaviour been planning to circumvent that law... or worse, had he known all along that he could not follow through with his promise of aid? Had he even planned on it?

Those were questions that Mark didn't have answers to.

The tactician did, however, plan on picking Eliwood's brain as much as possible in the next few hours. The red-haired lord knew many things about the inner workings of Lycian's government, and that was knowledge that he desperately needed.

* * *

"Treasure time! Treasure time!"

"Matthew!" Wil whirled about just in time to see the smirking thief vanish off down a nearby corridor. the archer hastened after the blond man. With every step, he cursed his luck at having been paired with the thief. Matthew was far too easily distracted or sidetracked in Wil's opinion. The moment that anything shiny appeared, the thief was all over it. "Get back here! We're supposed to be looking for supplies!"

A distant laugh answered the archer as Wil rushed to catch up to his partner.

"Supplies? I think these are the best supplies of all! Now... I wonder how much the finder's fee should be?"

Wil rounded a hallway corner, then came to a dead stop. The rust-haired archer gaped in open awe as he looked past Matthew into the newly uncovered room.

Mounds of golden treasure sat scattered across a large vault-like room. The sheer amount of fortune was mind-boggling, for never before had either of the two seen this much money in their entire life- let alone all at once. The mountains of gold caught and reflected any and all light, creating a dazzling display of amazement.

"I think," Matthew grinned crazily. "that we've found the treasury."

It took Wil a moment to find his voice, for he was still in shock at the time.

"Mark and Lyn are really going to be glad to see all this."

_**End!**_

_Next:_ As the Legion prepares to assault Castle Caelin,Lyn finally comes into possession of the Mani Katti.


	9. Choice

A.N.: A special thanks to all who reviewed the previous chapter. And on the subject of Kent's horse, I had originally planned it to be a running joke that his mount's name changed depending upon what chapter it was. Unfortunately, it fell apart a little too early so I'll abandon the concept for the moment.

Also, I'll admit that it was obscure, but the title for the last chapter actually referred to the bond between Ninian and Nils.

_**Begin**_

_Lord Eliwood stayed the night with us, and we spent many hours discussing strategy, politics and the repercussions of our battles. He left early the next morning. I feel that I have a better understanding of Lycian politics now, and that that knowledge might serve us well in the future._

_Wil and Matthew's discovery of the Black Fang treasury was very well-timed; for we needed those funds desperately. Now that we have money to work with again, our coming battle will be that much easier._

_We've made it to the outskirts of Caelin and made camp for the night. Tomorrow will be the day when it will all come down to one decisive battle. Everything we've done comes down to this one, final fight. We're either going to reunite Lyn with Marquess Hausen or die trying; there is no middle ground._

_Mark, Wraith of the Lorca._

* * *

The raven-haired shaman closed his journal with a sharp _snap_. In contrast to that sudden move, he gently returned it to his pack. He then stood and looked out over the Legion's camp.

Mark wasn't entirely sure how to classify the atmosphere of the camp that night. No one was tense or unnerved, but there was a sense of... unease, or vigilance, that pervaded the area. Everyone was carrying about on their usual activities. However, they were all a little distracted at it.

Lyn was talking with Florina over by Huey. The two were deep in discussion about something and looking more than a little agitated.

Kent was standing guard over the two women. The red knight of Caelin was standing at a respectful distance and continually scanning the horizon for any signs of attack. Meanwhile, Sain was still exchanging pointless banter with Serra, as was their usual custom.

Dorcas was sitting by their campfire, listening with polite interest to some rambling yarn of Wil's. Nils and Ninian rested near the burly axeman, and were spellbound by the archer's exaggerated tale. Lucius and Erk were holed up near their respective bedrolls, each had a text in hand and was thoroughly studying it.

And Matthew hadn't yet returned.

Mark wasn't overly concerned with that fact, as the thief hadn't been gone for more than a few degrees of the dial. Besides, this was a fairly large assignment, and not something that could be completed within a few minutes. The tactician would just have to be patient and wait for the results to show themselves in due time.

Still, their very assault upon castle Caelin would hinge upon Matthew's success. That in and of itself was enough cause for concern.

The tactician shoved those thoughts from his mind; worrying about things wouldn't change them.

After instinctively checking the skies for any sign of Romeo, Mark turned his attention to those around him. After a moment's consideration, he opted to open a conversation with the only other person who had been left to his own devices, Kent.

The red knight of Caelin cast a quick glance at the approaching tactician, and then resumed his diligent scanning of the horizon.

"'Evenin'." Mark paused alongside the cavalier, he then took another glance at the skies and remarked. "No clouds, little wind... it looks like tomorrow will have fair weather... Father Sky knows that we need every advantage we can get."

The red-haired cavalier gave a quick nod, but made no verbal reply. It was exceedingly clear from the man's body language that he desired to be left to his own devices.

The shaman took note of this. He didn't want to pry into another's affairs, but he also knew that this was no time to be distracted. They were approaching what could be their final battle. Everyone needed to be at the peak of their performance.

"Something's bothering you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Kent mulled over the offer for a moment, then returned with his answer.

"No... I don't believe so."

Mark nodded and stepped away to allow the knight his privacy.

"Alright, just don't worry yourself too much about it. If you change your mind, I'll be around."

Kent watched the Bernian leave; and vaguely wished that he could be as carefree as the others were at this late hour. But for him, it was impossible. The cavalier, quite simply, had just too much on his mind to be anything but pensive.

For as long as he could remember, the red-haired cavalier had striven for perfection and had done his best to fill his life's niche to the best of his ability. Now, that was all on the verge of coming crashing down around him. Lord Eliwood had revealed that Lundgren had accused Sain and himself of going rogue, of breaking their oaths of loyalty in order to make a claim for the Caelin throne. Kent had always been above suspicion and a trusted officer. He, quite frankly, had no idea how to react now that his name was being slandered.

Doubtless, anyone who learned of his identity would immediately assume him to be the oathbeaker he was proclaimed to be. His reputation and name had been tarnished; he would be held up to trainees as the very example of what not to be. Despite the fact that he had only acted on Lord Hausen's orders and was innocent of all wrongdoing, he was now an outcast.

This left him in a very difficult position. If Lyn failed to defeat Lundgren, what would he do? To stay would surely mean his death, for Lundgren would waste no time in having him executed. Kent knew too much for the usurper to leave him alive. If he fled, then he would forever remain an outcast, a fugitive, hiding his true identity from everyone and living in fear. Neither of those options appealed to him.

If Lyn could defeat Lundgren then everything would turn out well. If not, then he would have a hard decision to make.

But even as Kent pondered his possible futures, he knew that he would stand by Lyn no matter what. He had sworn his loyalty to her. He had vowed to protect her. She was still his Lady, and he would fulfill his duty to his dieing breath. Honor demanded...

No...

The cavalier was forced to remind himself of his previous decision. He was not going to stay by Lyn's side because of her position, but because of who she was. Lyn had stood by him at Araphen and revealed that she considered him a friend. Kent was not quite certain that he could consider Lyn a friend, yet; but he wanted to reach that point. He would fight and defend Lyn because she was worthy of it, not because of Hausen's order.

And if Lyn did fail, then he supposed he could die comfortably with the knowledge that he had protected someone worth helping- regardless of what everyone else may believe.

* * *

"And so then..." An exhilarating light filled Wil's eyes as he looked over his audience of three. "Lute looked about- only to realize that she was trapped! The serpent monsters had completely surrounded her! But Lute would not be deterred, her mother desperately needed the magical herbs to overcome the sickness, and Lute determined that she would not fall here. Not when she was so close!

"So Lute pulled out her book of fire and desperately tried to summon a blazing sphere of fire to protect herself. Sparks flew! But the fireball failed to stay together... it fell apart, all because Lute had been lazy about her practice. The serpent creatures came closer with dark, evil power radiating from their eyes... and Lute vowed that if she ever escaped this predicament, she would practice every day until she was the best mage the world had ever seen."

Ninian and Nils edged closer to the archer, waiting to see the outcome of such a tale.

"The serpent creatures came closer... closer... and closer... Lute cowered as their dark eyes grew closer, and their scaly, whispery breath became louder...

"Then, it struck! Lute jumped back in surprise as a bolt of brilliant yellow light descended from the skies and crashed into the serpent creatures! There was a loud _SNAP_ followed by a crash, and then a looming shadow appeared over the entire clearing. Lute spun around, and discovered that standing behind her was a towering, white-scaled dragon!"

A sharp gasp came from Ninian's throat while Nils suddenly lost interest in the story and suddenly began studying the dusty ground with uncommon interest. Wil, fearing that he had just irrevocably scared the two, hastened on with his story.

"The dragon took a huge breath of air, and then exhaled golden beams of light upon all the evil serpents; he continued to do this until all of the serpents had fallen beneath the might of his magical breath.

"Lute was cowering with fear at this amazing display of might, but to her amazement- the white dragon spoke to her. He explained that his name was Nasir, and that he was the guardian of the Black Forest. He had seen Lute enter his domain, and knew why she had come. Her courage had touched him, and so he had come to rescue her. Nasir extended his hand and provided Lute with the magical herbs that she had been seeking.

"The mighty dragon then picked Lute up and allowed her to ride on his back as he launched himself into the air. Nasir flew Lute all the way back to her home in the Serenes Forest, where her mother received the magical herbs and overcame the silent sickness.

"Nasir and Lute became fast friends, and they visited each other often. But, of course, dragons age much slower than humans do, and so eventually Lute and her family died, leaving Nasir all alone. The great, white dragon was heart-broken at the loss of his friends. He cried and wailed for many a night, and they say that the forests of the earth resonate with his pain. If you're ever in the forest at night, and you listen hard, you can still hear Nasir crying over Lute's death."

Wil concluded his story and sat back with no small amount of satisfaction. Despite that one setback, the archer had held Ninian and Nils' attention for the duration of his story. The two teal-haired children were exchanging a silent look, and mulling over the tale that he had just heard.

"That's... interesting..." Nils spoke at length. "for a moment there, I was sure that Nasir was going to be some big, scary, bad guy. A lot of the stories I've heard have the dragons as bad guys..."

"Yeah, well... A lot of people just say that because of the Scouring." Wil's exaltation diminished a bit at the sudden change of conversation. "But I don't think that's right at all. Sure, something happened that caused man and dragon to go to war... and sure... the dragons lost big time and died out... but I don't think that the dragons who lived back then were all evil and heartless.

"Dragons were probably like people, you had some good guys and some bad guys. Some nice dragons and some not-so-nice dragons... but to say that they were all good or all evil isn't fair. Doubtless, some of the dragons who died during the Scouring didn't deserve to... But I can't do anything to change that fact."

The two teal-haired children exchanged another look.

"You've got some strange ideas compared to everyone else." Nils commented.

"But I think you've got a good heart." Ninian said slowly. "And you are probably right."

"So..." The child bard grinned slyly as he unsuccessfully tried to make a subtle hint. "do you know any other stories about good-guy dragons?"

Wil allowed himself a quick laugh.

"Maybe... but if I share them, you have to give us a couple of songs with that pipe of yours. You haven't touched it since you came to stay with us, and if you're half the performer you claim to be then you should know a few simple tunes. I give you another story, you have to give me a song. Deal?"

"Deal."

"O.K... let's see... Alright, this one takes place two thousand and twenty years ago... just before the Scouring started and involves Kit the Swordswoman and Boyd the Fire Dragon as they united to stop a grave sorcerer who threatened to destroy everything..."

* * *

"We're going to win this, Florina... I know it." Lyn said as called upon her reserves of determination in order to put on a brave front. "It doesn't matter what Lundgren comes up with, I know that we can overcome it."

"I think we can too... I'm just worried." The Illian knight admitted as she mechanically tended to her winged mount. "I'm worried about what'll happen after we defeat Lundgren... what are you going to do?"

"... I wish that I knew." The Sacean spoke slowly after a long pause. "For the time being, I'll stay with my grandfather, if he'll have me. I want to get to know him, to learn about him and our family... to love him... I don't want to be alone anymore."

"I... ah... But what about the Taliver?"

Lyn's face darkened as she allowed her own emotional turmoil to surface. That was the question that she had no answer to. No matter how much she thought about it or discussed the subject, it all came down to one undeniable fact: she had sworn upon the very ground that she walked upon to destroy those responsible for her tribe's murder.

Even now that she held no personal desire to see revenge served upon the Taliver, the plainswoman was still honor-bound to carry out her oath. If she continued down her current path and formed a new life in Caelin, there would be the very real possibility that her oath might go unfulfilled. That was something that Lyn could not let happen.

"I can't forget them, Florina. I can't let their crime go unpunished... The blood of my tribesmen calls out to me every night... I have to answer it."

"But... you don't want to kill them anymore."

"That's the entire problem." Lyn wrapped her arms defensively about her, as if to ward of the coming decision that she would have to make. "I don't want to... but I have to. I promised Mother Earth that I would do so... and I can't go back on that."

"Is it really... that important?"

"Very... The Standard tongue can't even describe how binding such a promise is. I have no choice now, I gave that up the minute I spoke those words."

"But... surely... can't things change?" Florina stopped all attention to Huey and focused solely on the subject being discussed. "Can't you do something to release that? Lyn, I... I don't want to see you do this... I don't think that... it would be good for you."

"I made a vow, there is no changing that. It can't be taken back... there is no release from it." The Sacean closed her eyes and took a deep breath of resignation. "There is no way."

The lavender-haired Illian tried desperately to come up with some alternate suggestion, or some way to counter the point. But she failed. Lyn seemed determined to carry through with this idea, even against her will. It didn't appear as though there was an escape from it.

"Then... take me with you."

Lyn looked up in horror at the suggestion. The green-haired Lorcan gaped at her friend for a long moment, and then finally managed to regain enough control to speak.

"Florina, I... no... I couldn't subject you to that... I would never put you in that situation."

"But you're going to go and do that to yourself!" The pegasus knight objected. "I can't let you go alone, Lyn. I can't let you... I want to go with you... if you're going to have to do this... horrible thing... then you at least deserve to have someone with you when it happens."

"No!" The word came out with more force than the Sacean intended. "No, Florina, have you even thought about this? There will be horrible amounts of blood spilled; lives will have to be taken even if they don't want to fight against us. Even... even if they're men like Dorcas... they will have to die. I cannot burden you with that, surely you can't subject yourself to that fate!"

"I don't want to, but I can't let you do it to yourself alone. What was it you said to me years ago when we formed our bond-pact? 'A friend's joy is my joy, a friend's happiness is my happiness; a friend's pain is my pain, and their suffering is my suffering?' I'm your friend... let me share your pain... I have to..."

Lyn could do little but stare at Florina. When had her timid friend become so strong? Even now, the Illian was shaking at the thought of joining in on her quest for revenge; but the fear was under control and kept in check. The pegasus knight had become much more authoritative and sure of herself since signing onto the Legion, and now that was coming out as Florina fought all of her natural instincts to run and hide. Instead she was now offering to perform one of the bloodiest acts imaginable... all for her.

"No... I... Florina... I need to think... I need... time..." The Sacean took a step backwards, then another. After exchanging a quick promise to return, Lyn turned and moved away from her friend.

Florina watched her companion leave. Then she dropped her head into Huey's mane and cried.

What had she just done?

* * *

Late that night, Lyn grew tired at staring at the confining walls of her tent. The Sacean quietly left her bedroll and exited the tent that she and Florina shared. Sleep was not coming easy to her tonight, and given her recent rash of nightmares, she couldn't say that it wasn't a disguised blessing.

The plainswoman stepped away from the tent and made her way into the thicket that surrounded their campsite. It must have been later than she had supposed, for Sain, who had third watch, was standing guard. The green cavalier acknowledged her presence with a large grin and a cheery wave, but made no move to leave his post.

The Lorcan continued on her impromptu walk. She had no particular destination in mind, Lyn was just hoping that the fresh air would clear her head and finally allow sleep to come. Tomorrow was too important for her to falter from lack of sleep.

Time passed away beneath the girl's footsteps. She refused to actually think about anything, but merely did her best to relax and allow all thoughts to leave her mind. Unfortunately, her success was limited, for there were too many unanswered questions begging for her attention.

After she reunited with her grandfather, what would her life be like? She knew that Marquess Hausen was of some sort of nobility, but she had only the vaguest of notions about what that meant. Her recent experience at Araphen did little to help her understand the situation. Her grandfather had turned against her mother at one point... what if he was just as bad as Lundgren was?

If he wasn't, and she decided to stay, what would be expected of her? Something told Lyn that the Caelin ideals and mannerisms would be vastly different from those of the Saceans. How much of herself would she have to change? Was it even possible for her to become as a Lycian?

She didn't know the answer to those questions... only time would tell. Unfortunately, patience was not something that she professed to be good at.

A scratching sound drew Lyn's attention off of her thoughts and back to the real world. The plainswoman stood silent for a moment as she tried to decipher the sounds and identify what was causing them. The sound was repetitive, high-pitched, and short. Whatever it was, it was making no attempt to conceal itself.

Curious, the Lorcan began tracing the sounds and following them back to their source. Her path carried her through the thick underbrush and farther away from the camp. Eventually, the sounds of running water reached Lyn's ears, adding to her confusion. Whatever it was she was tracking, it was located near a stream of some sort.

A sharp cry drew Lyn's attention. A blur of motion cut in front of her face. The scratching sound stopped.

The plainswoman instinctively flinched as whatever-it-was came within a hairsbreadth of her eyes, but then she regained control of her facilities and used them to pinpoint her attacker.

"Romeo?" Lyn spotted the small wyvern clinging to the underside of a nearby tree branch.

The winged serpent adopted an innocent expression and cocked his head as if confused. Another _squrable_ left his throat- it too as the very model of falsely accused innocence.

"What are you doing out here?" The Sacean took a tentative step towards the creature. From her experiences with the wyvern, she knew that the creature wouldn't attack unless order to or provoked; but that didn't tame her unease about the creature. Mark knew how to control the wyvern, she didn't.

"_QUWA-keeee?"_

Lyn huffed. What kind of response had she been expecting?

"Who's there!?"

"Its just me, Mark." Lyn answered her tactician's shouted query. "Where are you?"

"Down by the riverbanks. It sounds like I'm just to the left of you."

The scratching sound resumed.

By now, the Lorcan's curiosity had more than bested her. What was the man up to at this late hour? And what could he be doing to cause such a ruckus?

The green-haired Sacean broke through the nearest thicket and emerged by the banks of a decent-sized stream. True to her companion's guess, Mark sat a short distance up the riverbanks.

The tactician had forgone his usual attire (he was dressed in a simple white shirt and a pair of loose brown trousers) and was bent over some strange wooden contraption. The raven-haired man was working something through the device, and causing it to screech and groan at regular intervals.

"Mark?" Lyn took a hesitant step towards her friend. "What are you doing?"

Any mystery regarding the situation was removed as the tactician issued a simple, one-word reply.

"Laundry."

"Laundry?"

"Yes, my mind's too busy to sleep, so I figured that I might as well do something useful. My own clothes have been in need of a thorough scrub for quite some time and Nils and Ninian's were in even worse shape... I don't know how Nils' shirt has stayed together all this time, it was practically falling apart at the seams."

Lyn took just a moment to make sure that she was not, in point of fact, just dreaming. There was just something about walking into a clearing in the middle of the night and finding your tactician mending and washing clothes that felt... bizarre- almost surreal. Lyn had never imagined her companion as the type to do menial tasks like those, but then, she realized, Mark, having lived most of his life alone with his father, had probably done so many times before out of simple necessity.

"Wait... you're doing Ninian and Nils' things? So... what are?"

"Most of the Legion chipped in various things to get them through the night. Nils wasn't too thrilled with the idea of someone else handling his stuff, but he was too exhausted to argue about it."

"Ah... I... see..."

Mark coughed and tried to restore some sense of normality to their situation.

"So... you couldn't sleep either. Is there something on your mind?"

Lyn stifled a sigh. The fact of the matter was that there were many things on her mind. Over the past few weeks, her entire life had been turned inside out and backwards; leaving her so confused she could hardly keep track of all that had gone on. The coming changes that her future would bring, what Hausen was like, whether she would stay or go, and the matter of the Taliver... all of it was just clamoring for her attention. And there was precious little that she could do about any of it.

"Too many things to talk about right now... most of its been things that we've discussed before."

"Ah. Alright... but if you ever do need to rehash it all, you know that my ear's always open."

"Yes... yes, I know..." Lyn felt her heart sink as she made a small realization. "And, Mark... I want to thank you for your willingness to help us... and ... me. You didn't have to let me travel with you back on the plains, but you did and you've been by my side since... even when our roles were reversed... I haven't thanked you enough for your work."

"Oh? Ah... you're welcome." Mark bit his lip in embarrassment.

A thick silence descended upon the two, punctuated by the sounds of the tactician working at his clothes. Neither of the two were entirely sure where to take the conversation now. At length, the Lorcan decided to move back onto safer territory.

"It all ends tomorrow, doesn't it?"

"A chapter of our adventure might end." The raven-haired shaman agreed slightly. "We'll either succeed or fail, but I have a lot of confidence in the Legion. We've overcome some fairly tough odds, and with a little luck, I believe we'll be able to defeat Lundgren and rescue your grandfather... provided that Matthew ever returns to us. I'm beginning to wonder about him."

"Matthew? Why would a thief be so necessary for victory?"

"Truth be told, he won't really be of much use tomorrow. I sent him ahead to scout out the terrain and secure some items for us, I think that they'll come in useful during tomorrow's exchange."

"Items? You trusted a thief with our funds? Mark, have you gone mad?"

The tactician looked up quickly and shook his head to the negative.

"No... Well, some would say that I've always been." The raven-haired man knew that exhaustion was starting to finally set in. He was being more relaxed and silly than he normally was- it was a sure sign that sleep was finally approaching. "Actually, the items I required couldn't really be purchased... they required Matthew's... erm... special talents to procure."

"You had him steal them." Lyn shook her head in disbelief. The very idea that that they could benefit from such dishonorable action jabbed at her, but she was willing to let it slide at this point. Besides, it was far too late to do anything about it.

"Actually, we're just borrowing them. That's a literal truth. As soon as we infiltrate Castle Caelin, everything will be right back where it should."

"Really, now? That's quite generous of you."

"I'm trying to be. Kent and Sain grew up in Castle Caelin, they're bound to have friends and ties to that castle. I'd rather not have to fight the Caelin guard and put the two in the situation of having to slay their friends if I can help it."

Lyn adopted a blank look, an expression that Mark had come to realize meant that the Lorcan had never considered that aspect of their coming battle before- and she was quickly trying to work through the repercussions of it.

"That's... do you really think that... they would?"

The raven-haired tactician nodded as he gather the soaked clothes and worked his way to a standing position. He draped the fabrics over one arm, and then picked up his washing contraption with the other as he made his reply.

"I have no doubt that either of them would. Kent... you can tell that he wants to help in every way possible. If he has to go up against a former ally, he wouldn't hesitate. Sain... well... his loyalty has been with you since the moment he hit on you at Bulgar. He'd grieve for his friends and go out of his way to spare their lives, but he knows what has to be done and would follow through."

Lyn frowned and turned away from her companion to hide the shame that raced across her features. She had neglected that Kent and Sain did, in point of fact, hail from Castle Caelin. Any fight against the castle would invariably put them against former friends. She had never considered the sacrifice that they would have to make if they continued to support her, and never realized the hardship it would cause them.

All this brought to light the fact that they truly did care for her, as did the rest of the Legion. If they were willing to go to such great lengths to help her... then there could be no questioning their intentions.

What made such a point even harder to bear was the fact that Lyn was unsure if she could return the action. She had no qualms of standing up to Marquess Xaviour to protect Kent... but would she be willing to kill a member of her tribe in order to help a friend? The Lorcan didn't know.

"Kent... Sain... I'm so sorry..."

"Its alright." Mark's voice broke through Lyn's reverie. "If we can avoid engaging the Caelin troops, then we will. And if Matthew gets back in time, we won't have anything to worry about. We'll get through this, and everyone will be able to enjoy the aftermath... I promise you that."

* * *

The night passed in fits for most of the Legion. Everyone was too anxious to actually sleep on the night of their final battle. As such, most everyone was awake or near awake as all chaos broke loose.

Kent was standing watch during the pre-dawn hours. The red-haired cavalier was keeping a diligent watch on the horizon as he mulled over his various thoughts and difficulties.

The red knight of Caelin caught just the barest hint of movement off in the distance. He looked after the object with a trained eye in an attempt to discern just what the motion actually was. The task was made harder by the fact that it was not quite yet light, and the air was still a murky black.

A cry broke out from Romeo. The unexpected shriek brought an involuntary startle from Kent, which was fortunate. There was a sudden whistle, followed by the 'twang' of an arrow rebounding off of the cavalier's metal armor. Had he not suddenly twitched over the wyvern's shout, then the arrow would have probably lodged in his upper arm.

Realizing that they were under attack, Kent hollered an alarm. Immediately, the Legion emerged from their tents. Each one was alert and ready for battle.

Mark took one look at the situation and felt the grim realization that they were fighting an uphill battle. Their foe had the advantage of ambush, concealment in the dark, and unknown numbers. He had to do something to even the odds or they were all doomed.

"Melee fighters!" The raven-haired shaman shouted out orders. "Form a ring around the camp. Ranged attackers, sit tight in the center. Erk, we need a fire. A big one. Now!"

The mage shouted to the affirmative. He drew a tome of fire from his robes and studied the pages intently as he tried to craft a spell that would allow him to create a large blaze. Almost a minute passed before Erk had an understanding of the requirements to perform the needed action.

Erk snatched at the energy that ran through the air and manipulated it into multiple burning spheres of fire. He launched them into the nearby thicket, and immediately the entire forest was set ablaze. Flames raced across the dry brush at an astonishing, probably magical, rate and cast wide swaths of light across the area.

Shouts and screams went up from the forest. Apparently a few of their ambushers had been hiding in that particular thicket.

With the light from the blaze illuminating the area, their attackers were revealed for all to see. Several armed axemen and sword-users were advancing from the east, where as a few archers and mages were pouring from the burning forest.

Immediately, upon their tactician's orders, Sain and Dorcas moved to the eastern front and engaged their foes there. Wil moved to support them and rained arrows down on his opponents.

Lyn and Kent moved to engage the archers and mages. The two ripped into their foes with intense speed and accuracy; Erk joined them and attacked with all of his magical arsenal.

"Florina, get airborne. Support whoever is in need but keep an eye on Nils and Ninian, we don't want anyone slipping past our defenses and targeting them!" Mark shouted above the noise of the battle.

"R-right away!" The pegasus knight raced over to Huey and easily pulled herself into the saddle. "Y-you can count on me!"

"I know I can, Florina." The tactician agreed. "I know you'll do your best and give it you're all, you always do."

The lavender-haired knight beamed and shot into the skies.

"Lucius, cover Ninian and Nils as well!"

"Yes, sir!" The monk replied as he moved into position.

"Now," Mark picked up his own Flux tome and studied the layout of the battle. "what can I do...?"

The raven-haired man picked a small group of their attackers and went on the offensive.

* * *

As he continued to parry and return blows, Kent found himself studying the situation. When the fight had first broken out, he had thought that their attackers would be Caelin troops who had discovered their location. That was rapidly turning out to be a false assumption.

The first strike against the theory was that these men were poorly coordinated. The attacking soldiers were sloppy and ineffective, they attacked and fought like a drunken mob instead of a trained force.

Further, the fighting style of their swordsmen was definitely not that taught to all Caelin troops. The red-haired cavalier and whichever myrmidon he was dealing with found themselves unfamiliar with the other's style, and that made them more defensive and wary than they normally would have been during a battle.

At length, Kent realized that the myrmidons and mercenaries were using what appeared to be a variant of the same style employed by Lyndis. This realization gave him the edge he needed to be more bold in his attacks, and to score more hits against his opponents.

Then there was the final point against these being Caelin men. The light cast by Erk's mystical flames couldn't reveal every feature about their attackers, but what it did reveal was that these men were not of Lycian heritage.

All this led the red knight of Caelin to suspect that they might be facing some Bernian or Sacean troop. But if that was the case, what were they doing so far from the border?

The redheaded knight turned and looked over his shoulder to check on Lady Lyndis' progress. He was relieved that she appeared to be unharmed; and even seemed to be faring better than he was in dealing with them. If these men were using some version of Lyn's bladework, then Kent supposed that that would make sense.

Lyn, meanwhile, was feeling quite sick with herself. Unlike her red-haired companion, she knew that these soldiers were of Sacean heritage. Their swordsmanship, bearing and attitudes gave it away. That she was forced to fight against her fellow people and take their blood stabbed at her, and left her with only sorrow to deal with.

The plainswoman was struck again at how hard it would be for Kent and Sain to mount an attack on their castle. If it meant fighting their friends and allies, then it would be immensely hard for the two; yet, neither of them had said a word about it or even brought it up. They were, indeed, great friends and willing to do whatever it took to help her.

The green-haired Lorcan deflected the blade of an attacking myrmidon, spun around the attack, and thrust her sword into her attacker. From there, she was forced to leap aside as a mercenary came crashing down from the heavens in an attempt to split her in two.

Lyn came out of her tumble and sliced through a stray archer before turning her focus back to the stocky swordsman. The two charged at each other. Steel met steel as their blades locked together. The Sacean took a long look at her attacker, as the man studied her.

A rush of motion caught the side of Lyn's eye. She immediately broke her hold with the mercenary and spun away from the exchange- moments later, a burly axeman sliced through the spot that she had just vacated.

The axemen fell quickly enough beneath the hurricane that was the Sacean's blade. She finished her work with that soldier and turned back to the fight with the rest of the platoon.

Kent's voice broke through the haze of battle.

"Lady Lyndis! Look out!"

Lyn heeded the advice, and darted to one side. A moment later, the sword of the previous mercenary shot through the air.

The plainswoman slid to a stop, and looked up at the soldier who had taken an unhealthy interest in her. The mercenary locked his gaze with her and grinned savagely.

Kent, not liking the looks of this situation in the least, broke away from his battle with a myrmidon and tried to ride to his lady's aid. The knight shouted some encouragement, but was cut off as two axe-wielding bandits appeared and blocked his path.

The red knight of Caelin was forced to abort his attempt to aid his liege and dodge the two's clumsy blows. He was able to defeat the two axemen easily enough, but scarcely had he dispatched them than did two other swordsmen descend upon him. The group of soldiers seemed intent upon making sure that the battle between the mercenary and Lyn went unchallenged.

"Yeah... you've got to be her." The sandy-haired mercenary stared long and hard at Lyn. "Lyn of the Lorca, I presume?"

Surprise dashed across the Sacean's features. She had no idea who this man was, so how was it that he knew who she was?

"And you are?"

"My name is Glass." The mercenary identified himself. "Remember that name... for what little time you have left on this earth. I've chased you across the continent, all for the sake of this battle."

"Glass? I don't know anyone of that name." Lyn frowned as she tried to figure out the motive behind this assault. Whoever this man was, it was obvious that he had a vested interest in her, and yet she was at a loss to understand it. "What business do you have with me?"

The mercenary unleashed a long laugh, and then allowed his expression to harden as his eyes began to radiate sheer hatred.

"Only the most important business of all: the repayment of past sins!" Glass roared in cold fury. "You took my father, Batta the Beast, from me, and now I'm going to take your blood from your veins as payment!"

"Wh- what? Batta the Beast? You're... his son?" Surprise, confusion and bewilderment passed upon the Lorcan plainswoman as she realized just what this meant. In truth, Lyn was surprised that she even remembered that particular bandit's name as she had fought several since leaving the plains. Had it not been one of the first lives that she had taken, then she might not have remembered.

"I am, and I'm here to end your life." The mercenary dropped his weapon to the ground and reached for a long scabbard that had been tied to his back. Glass wrapped his fingers about the sheathed sword's hilt and paused. "Do you have any final words? I'll hear them before I slice you in two."

Lyn frantically scrambled for any sort of sentence or conversation that could potentially end this conflict before it continued. Her only hope was to try and talk some sense into this man before he went on the offensive.

"Glass, I didn't want to kill your father. He was going to raid a local village and burn it to the ground- I had no choice but to defeat him in order to save their-"

"Don't you rationalize what you did!" The sandy-haired mercenary thundered. His eyes narrowed as he countermanded the point. "My father was not your average bandit- yes, he was going to rob that village, but he would never have burned it as you suggest. My mother was sick and dieing and the only hope lay in a cure that we couldn't afford. I tried to find honest work as did my father... but we couldn't bring in gold fast enough."

_-Dorcas-_ The thought burned its way into Lyn's mind, against her will.

"Finally, my father fell into a fit of despair. He decided that there was only one way to save his life... he waited until I left the house... then he drank himself into a stupor in order to numb the guilt of what he was about to do..." Tears began building at the edge's of Glass' eyes, but he refused to release them. "... and then you killed him in cold blood. You slaughtered him!"

"Yes... yes, I did." The plainswoman admitted. "I stopped him from committing an act that he would regret... I saved lives by taking his."

"That doesn't change the fact that you murdered him! Who were you to decide that he deserved death? Huh? What gave you that right to take his life from me?"

"What gives you the right to take mine?"

"The fact that I am of blood relation, and that blood demands that I kill you..." Glass wasn't even phased by the question. The mercenary finally drew a gleaming blade from his scabbard, and struggled to maintain a hold on the weapon that was bucking wildly in his grip. "... and that is why I brought this."

Lyn's breath froze in her throat. She had only seen that blade once before in her life, but no person of the plains could be ignorant of the weapon that now stood against her. It was none other than the Sword of Spirits used by Kit against the dragons who assaulted the plains during the Scouring.

"The Mani Katti..." Despite the situation, the words left the Sacean's throat drenched in awe and amazement.

"Right, the Mani Katti. It is the only blade that is fit to deliver justice." Glass grinned in crazed fury. "Now then, prepare yourself to die, murderer!"

The next moment seemed to stretch into an eternity as the Lorcan was forced to come face to face with both Glass and her future.

Ever since her tribe had been killed, Lyn had been bent on revenge; it had been a desire that had dwelt on her mind constantly since she had been left alone. The Terawin had rescued her from her poison-induced coma, and taken her under their protection. Eventually, they had offered her a place in the tribe- Lyn had put off the decision claiming that she needed to grieve first. She had left... and never returned.

Over the next several months, the Sacean plainswoman had dwelt upon her loss and grief. Eventually, that pain had solidified into anger, and from anger resolved into hate. She longed to lash out at the world and to make someone, anyone, feel the pain that she was feeling. She opted for the first target that came to mind: the Taliver.

Then, in a fit of weakness, Lyn had vowed to Mother Earth, the strongest vow that a Sacean could make, that she would destroy the ones responsible for her people's death. Her fate had been sealed. If taking revenge would condemn her, then she would be condemned.

Now, here she was, staring at her future with her own two eyes.

Glass had suffered a similar loss, and was lashing out because of it. He was right, Lyn had killed his father, but was unable to see the situation from her eyes. To Glass, his hatred told him that Lyn was a murderer, and he was willing to take that as far as possible.

There were differences, yes. But fundamentally, their cases were the same.

Lyn was also angry, and her anger had told her that all of the Taliver were evil and deserved to die. But as Dorcas and Glass had proved, not all bandits were evil. Most were, yes, but some were simply men who had made one wrong mistake. These men had families and loved ones that they were providing for and desperately trying to save. Was it fair to destroy these misguided people in her quest to rid the world of the Taliver?

Then there were the sons of those who she slew, what would she do when they started coming after her?

And there was also Glass himself. Glass had abandoned all of his happiness and joy, and was nothing more than sorrow or anguish at this point. His life was little more than a sea of self-pity and hatred, and it would be hard for the mercenary to rise above it. Lyn knew from their previous battles that Glass would find no solace in her death, but would continue to lie in his misery. The happiness he had once had was gone, and rather than trying to create a new brand of joy for himself, he was dooming his life to one of sorrow.

Was this the kind of person that she wanted to be? Was this the kind of person that her parents would want her to be? Could her grandfather live with this kind of granddaughter? What about Florina? Could she ask Florina to become this beast before her? A dark sadness filled Lyn's heart, she could not bring herself to desire Florina to subject herself to this lifestyle.

All at once, everything that Mark and Florina had been trying to tell her broke through, and Lyn realized just how wrong she had been.

_-Mother, Father, my people... forgive me... I have been a foolish child... I was wrong, and lost. I never should have started down this path. I'm... not worthy to be considered your child anymore... but I will strive, from this day forward, to bring you honor... I am truly sorry._

_-Mother Earth, I am sorry, but I cannot fulfill my promise. Judge me as you will, but I cannot become the monster I pledged to be. If you can forgive me, then please do so.-_

"LADY LYNDIS!"

Kent's words broke into the Lorcan's mind and brought her back to the present. The green-haired nomad looked up to find Glass descending upon her with the Mani Katti aimed at her throat. Lyn deftly stepped to one side and darted away from her attacker. Upon putting some distance between herself and the mercenary, the Sacean turned back to face her attacker and readied her blade defensively.

"Oh, yes... struggle... resist." Glass taunted his opponent. "It'll make the final blow that much more satisfying."

Kent desperately tried to break through the enemy lines and come to his companion's aid, but for every man he felled, another stood to take his place.

"I am sorry, Glass. I killed your father to protect the villagers, and that I do not regret, but I do regret causing you the pain of a loved one's death. I will not lie down and die for you, though. I acted in the right, and was just in my dealings. If you cannot accept this, then I will defend myself through whatever means are necessary, I cannot die just yet." Lyn raised her sword and prepared to intercept any coming attack.

"I wouldn't have it any other way!" The sandy-haired mercenary lunged forward and stabbed out with the Mani Katti.

What followed was the fiercest fight and exchange that Lyn had encountered yet. Glass' swordsmanship was excellent and finely tuned. His blade was everywhere, and lashed out in multiple directions; no matter what the situation, the mercenary was always able to turn his sword into an attack upon his prey.

Lyn was forced to remain entirely upon the defensive as she blocked, parried, and thwarted the individual attacks being laid against her. Her focus was entirely upon staying alive and waiting for her enemy to make one critical flaw to give her an opening to attack. She was taking no chances in this fight.

As the fight progressed, it became evident that Glass' abilities were far and above those of Lyn's. Several times the mercenary came dangerously close to scoring a lethal hit against the plainswoman, and each time there was just the barest of hesitation in the attack that allowed the Lorcan to escape.

But this was not to last. At length, the mercenary's abilities prevailed. Glass launched one last assault that was so ferocious in its intensity that Lyn was barely able to block with her weapon in time. The blow connected solidly, and so strongly, that the plainswoman blade was knocked wide. Lyn was left defenseless and unable to evade any coming strike.

Kent screamed his Lady's name, in what he was sure would be her final moment on earth.

Glass wrapped both of his hands against the wildly bucking Mani Katti and lunged. His sword lashed out like a viper- its target was the Sacean's throat.

Lyn froze.

...

She blinked.

She breathed.

She realized that she wasn't dead.

The Mani Katti had stopped at less than a quarter of an inch before Lyn's throat, and was steadfastly refusing to move any more. Glass was obviously struggling and fighting to get the sword to move, but his best efforts proved fruitless as the blade remained posed in space, and would not budge. Was the Sword of Spirits actually refusing to participate in the attack, or was this some new deviltry of Mark's?

Glass began cursing at the sword as he frantically tried to complete his maneuver.

Inspiration flashed through Lyn's mind, and she acted before her rational side could veto the idea. She struck out with her left hand and grabbed at the Mani Katti's blade. Her hand closed upon the razor-sharp edge, but no blood issued from her palm. The sword would not hurt her.

The Lorcan didn't stop to marvel at this fact, but continued to act. She pulled sharply upon the Mani Katti as she brought her own sword up in tandem. Glass' secure hold upon the enchanted blade meant that he was also brought violently forward- and straight into Lyn's waiting sword.

The mercenary looked down at the weapon that was protruding from his chest. A silent scream formed about his lips, and then Glass fell to the ground, dead.

Immediately, those who were attacking the Legion noted that their leader had fallen and retreated.

"My Lady Lyndis..." Kent's voice carried a hint of a tremor as he, Lyn and the rest of the Legion regrouped within the confines of their camp. "... are you... uninjured?"

"I... am. I'm alright."

Lyn's attention was divided between the red-haired knight and the glowing Mani Katti that she held in her hands. She had retrieved it from the fallen Glass, and had been marveling over all that had transpired with it since.

"The.. Mani Katti." The Sacean made certain to revere the name. "It... saved me. It refused to attack when Glass wanted it to."

"It... would certainly appear so." Kent admitted. Admitting such a thing went against a lot of logic an rationale, but hadn't he just seen all that transpired with his own two eyes?

The green-haired Lorcan could hardly believe all that had transpired, or even that she was holding the legendary Mani Katti in her hands. The blade that all of Sacea honored and held within high esteem was now resting in her palms and glowing brightly. It was unimaginable.

The two were interrupted as the rest of the Legion returned. Mark and Wil were supporting a bruised and injured elder between them, and Serra was fussing about as she tended to his wounds. The tactician and the archer looked at their other two companions, and appeared relieved when they realized that the two were uninjured.

"Lyn, Kent... I'm glad you're alright." Mark breathed a sigh of relief. "We rescued Elder Arron, here, from the mercenaries and he filled us in on what was going on."

The tactician cut himself off as he realized that Lyn was holding none other than the sacred Mani Katti in her hands. He was no less amazed than was the injured elder that he was supporting. Arron gaped in open awe at the sight before him.

"Elder Arron?" The Sacean repeated as she realized what this would mean. "From the Sacred Shrine?"

"I am." The elderly man nodded. "Glass and his men invaded the temple and forced us to surrender the Mani Katti to him. He took me captive and chased after you as fast as he was able."

A sorrowful expression passed across Lyn's face. The plainswoman closed her eyes to hide her shame as she took a step towards the man and held the Sword of Spirits out in offering.

"I am sorry. You've suffered much because of me... There is little that I can do to repay you, except to return the sacred blade unharmed."

A small smile passed across the elder's face, and Arron shook his head to the negative.

"Forgive me, child. But I am glad that I suffered the hardships that I have, this moment here has made all of my suffering worth it."

The entire Legion looked at Arron in disbelief. The elder was in no hurry to explain himself; he was caught in the moment and content to stay there.

"You see, for many years, the Mani Katti has resided with the Sacred Shrine waiting on one who was worthy to come and claim it. Glass attempted to force the sword to submit to his hand, but he was unworthy, the blade had judged him and found him wanting. The Mani Katti would never have cooperated with him.

"But you... it has judged... and found worthy. Lyn of the Lorca... the blade has chosen you as its wielder. Never once did I imagine that I would meet the Mani Katti's wielder in my lifetime... for this opportunity I am grateful."

"What?"

To say that the Lorcan was surprised would have been an understatement. Lyn had never once imagined that she could ever have held the Mani Katti, much less use it in battle. This blade was the weapon of heroes, and only someone great was supposed to use it. She, most certainly, did not meet that criteria.

"The Mani Katti has chosen you." Arron repeated.

"But... this can't be... I... I tried to walk a dark road once... I'm not worthy."

"Where you have been, and what you have done, is of little consequence. The sword has judged you worthy, and knows that you will only use it in a way that is fitting- never with haste or little thought."

The plainswoman looked down at the blade, and stared into its glow intently. A few seconds passed as she was left alone with her thoughts, and at length, Lyn came to terms with all that had just happened.

"I understand... I will fulfill the trust placed in me."

It was a tender, serene moment, as the Legion took in all that was transpiring. Some understood more than others, and some cared more than others, but they all understood that something important was happening, and that some respect was due.

The silence was ruined as a loud voice called out for attention.

"Halloooo!" Matthew's voice split through the air.

The thief emerged from the nearby woods with a tarp-covered cart in tow. The enigmatic thief was looking very pleased with himself, and quite satisfied with his long night's work. He stopped as he realized that he was intruding upon something- and then paled as he took in the carnage and aftermath of the battle that had been fought during his absence.

Matthew coughed as he became the recipient of several questioning looks and glares. In an attempt to ease the sudden tension, the thief adopted a blank look and a picture of perfect innocence.

"So... er... did I miss anything?"

_**End.**_


	10. Clash

I want to thank everyone who reviewed that last chapter; and I want you to know that I do appreciate the feedback. Unfortunately, it looks like FF's policies have changed as of late and I'm unable to properly thank everyone who did review here individually (I received a warning over that). But, rest assured, I do take the points and critique provided there to heart.

_**Begin**_

_Do or die. There is no other option._

_Mark, Wraith of the Lorca._

* * *

To put it mildly, Lundgren was upset. To put it bluntly, Lundgren was livid.

The scowling nobleman had done his best to eradicate this Sacean usurper, to remove his brother, and to take control of Caelin. He had failed on all three accounts thus far.

The Sacean had proved to be annoyingly difficult to kill- a fact that was made all the more difficult by her inane ability to gather other people around her. According to all reports, she had amassed a small force by the time that the Lorcan had crossed the Lycian border. He could only expect those numbers to increase.

Somehow, someway, that Sacean had breached the Caelin border, and even now was preparing to attack his castle. The latest reports had put her a day's journey to the north.

Lundgren had been tempted to hurl every soldier he possessed at her that same evening he became aware of her whereabouts. Such a maneuver might have been successful, or it might not have been. But it would have left the castle fairly vulnerable, and Lundgren did not want to leave himself open for an instant. He still needed to be cautious.

And like daughter like father, Marquess Hausen, his dear brother, was also refusing to die. The silver-haired nobleman had lost track of how much poison he had forced down his brother's throat, and yet the man just would not die. He would grow sick, and then rally back. It was ridiculous.

Lundgren was extremely tempted to take an axe and just do the deed himself. It would be so much more certain that way... but no, Hausen had to appear to die of natural causes. If the man perished any other way, then the Council might take an unhealthy interest in the events of his death. Evidently, the new Council Head frowned upon this sort of thing.

The aging nobleman caught the creek of a door's hinges and looked up angrily. Two figures stood at the entrance to his throne room, one was the familiar form of Abigail, and the other was Counselor Notham.

Notham paid no interest to the mute servant as he entered the room and bowed to Lundgren. Abigail followed in his wake with a large serving tray, prompting Lundgren to realize that it was the noon degree of the dial. The nobleman waved the food away, he had no appetite, and focused his attention upon the politician.

"And what brings you here?" Lundgren eyed the statesman warily. "I would have thought that _you_ would have thought twice before returning to my presence."

"My Lord Lundgren." Notham continued to eyeball the floor. "You know that everything I have done has been to your benefit. I would never dream of supporting a Sacean savage in any claim to the throne."

"Yes, yes, get on with it." The noble stood and marched over to the closest window. He stared out of the opening and did his best to ignore the groveler behind him. "What do you want? Your last suggestion to stage a coup in Araphen failed miserably. Quite frankly, you've severely disappointed me."

"I have been severely disappointed with myself." Notham admitted. "But if the rumors are true and 'she' is just a day's journey away, what are you going to do?"

"I've worked too hard and too long to turn back now. She's just a baby savage from the plains, if she somehow does make it this far, then I'll rip her apart with my bare hands."

"Are you sure that that is a wise course of action to take? She has been winning battles since the moment that she chose to make this journey. Who is to say that that will change when she engages the Caelin troops?"

Lundgren's eyes narrowed in barely curtailed fury.

"What are you suggesting?"

"I am suggesting that we might be underestimating her." Notham replied bluntly.

"I'm not liking this suggestion, Notham. Are you sure that you're on my side?"

"I am on no one's side." The statesman answered without missing a beat. "I am loyal to one thing only: Caelin itself. All of my actions have been based upon what I believe to be the best for our fair state. I do believe that you would do more to further Caelin than this Sacean nobody, but that is no reason to gloss over the facts. Lyndis has had a most interesting run of luck up to this point, I see no reason for that to change. We must consider the situation for what it is, not what we want it to be."

Lundgren's jaw tightened as he resisted the urge to lop Notham's head from his shoulders right then and there. Was the politician actually suggesting that he would lose in a one-on-one fight with the Sacean? That was dangerously close to treason in his book.

"I'm questioning your advice, Notham. You'd best reassure me that you have my interests in mind very, very quickly."

The politician sighed, and then stood upright. Without any further word on his part, Notham crossed the room and opened the far door. In response to the move, a towering, rumbling figure, who was cloaked from top to bottom in thick armor, marched in from the outside hallway. The newcomer was as bald as could be, and wore a stern, if not mistrustful, expression.

Recognition flit across Lundgren's face.

"You're... General Wallace aren't you?" The aging noble smiled grimly. "The best general Caelin ever produced."

"I am." Wallace replied with little to no trace of emotion in his voice.

"Didn't you retire a few years back? It was hard to lose a man like you; I don't think that we've ever fully recovered from the loss." Lundgren attempted a slight bit of flattery to see if he could swing the general's loyalty any.

"I did. Decided that I'd had enough of this and wanted to work the fields again." The general replied smoothly enough.

"Well, I'm so glad that Notham was able to convince you to come back into the service. This couldn't have been at a better time. Marquess Hausen has taken ill and two knights, Kent and Sain, have used this opportunity to attempt a coup. They've dug up some Sacean savage and are passing her off as Lady Madelyn's long-lost daughter."

Lundgren noted, with no small measure of glee, that Wallace's expression had become just a bit more severe.

"They're on their way here, and we need someone who can stand up to them. I trust that you're up to the task?"

"If Marquess Hausen has been threatened, then I'll do everything in my power to protect him." The bald general replied.

"Good... good..."

At that precise moment, a shout went up from somewhere deep within the castle walls. The alarms of trumpets filled the air, and a moment later, so did the crashing of armored footsteps.

A sentry took this opportunity to shout orders to those about him.

"The rebels have appeared and are attacking the eastern front! Get out there and cut them down, all of them!"

Lundgren heard these words and began to grin sadistically.

"Well, Wallace, looks like you arrived just in time. I'm sure that you're more than able to teach these upstarts a thing or two, can't you?"

"Leave it to me." Wallace growled. "I'll set everything straight."

With that, the towering man turned and marched out of the throne room- his armor was clanking with every motion.

"Yes... if anyone can stop them, Wallace can." Lundgren looked downright pleased with himself.

Notham shook his head. He had miscalculated. If Lundgren couldn't even tell that Wallace was less than thrilled with the entire situation, then what sort of leader was he? It was very obvious that the balding general didn't trust the nobleman at all, and would probably flip to the other side given the first opportunity. If Lundgren couldn't see that, then he was a fool.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he'd been planning for just this sort of contingency.

* * *

Caelin was famous among the nobility and infamous among the banditry for the Cavaliers that it produced. The Caelin cavalry was the prime example of mounted combat, and exhibited more skill than any other nation or state's soldiers. This fact was made all the more amazing since Caelin had always exhibited an open enrollment system when it came to their military. Anyone, regardless of birth, ethnicity, or gender could become a soldier, and within any given division there could be a mish-mash of people with any number of backgrounds.

The Caelin citizenry took great pride in their cavaliers, and extolled them at every opportunity. In return, the cavaliers took great pride in using their skills to protect the citizenry that had created them. It was a cycle in which both sides urged the other on.

Thus, when the first wave of cavaliers charged out of Castle Caelin, they did so with vigor and relish. They were the elite force of the military, and they would protect their Marquess with their very lives. If some rugged band of rebels was attempted to start a coup, then they would cut the transgressors down where they stood. This battle would be over in minutes.

Unfortunately, that was not to be the case.

The cavaliers charged upon a tight ring of fighters and was thoroughly amazed to be beaten back. The group of insurgents had holed up within the confines of a tight, mountain pass, and were bracketed in with the cliffs of the Bolm mountains on either side of their army. The end result was that the Caelin cavaliers could not exercise their full mobility, lost their crucial advantage, and were reduced to fighting a pitched battle.

This proved to be to the Legion's advantage, as a rugged axeman stood at point. He did well at avoiding their blows and retaliating with wide sweeps of his axe to force his attackers backwards. A pegasus knight stood next to the burly axe-fighter, just a few inches off the ground, and was also proving to be astonishingly difficult to hit.

The fighter and the pegasus knight were sheltering a pink-haired cleric, who was screaming like a banshee, along with a monk who was wasting no time in unleashing his destructive power upon those who attacked his friends. A purple-haired mage also stood behind the axeman, and was proving to be very proficient at forcing his attackers backwards with his ranged magical attacks.

An outside observer might have realized that the supposed rebels were purposely striking wide or providing openings for their opponents to evade their attacks. But no such realization occurred to the Caelin cavaliers.

Suddenly arrows began raining from the sky.

A rust-haired archer was perched securely up in the mountains and he was wasting no time in unloading his arsenal upon his attackers.

* * *

With all eyes focused upon the eastern front, no one paid any attention to a small band of travelers who cut into the woods surrounding the Caelin Castle.

Castle Caelin had been built with the Bolm mountains guarding its north and eastern faces, while a heavy stream and forest cut through the land parallel to its western side. This meant that the only way to make an assault upon the castle was to either waste precious time negotiating the treacherous Bolm cliffs, announce your presence by building a bridge upon the river, or charge straight up the southern plains where anyone could see an army coming.

Because of all this, Castle Caelin was considered very well fortified, and perhaps that is why it was infiltrated so easily.

On the western edge of the castle, which bordered upon the forst, four members of the Caelin Guard appeared. Two of the soldiers looked perfectly at ease within the armor, while the other two looked awkward within its restricting confines. As one, the group approached the castle and studied it critically.

"Castle Caelin... I never thought that I'd be returning here like this." One of the knights remarked.

"Its better than the alternative." Another replied. "We could be fighting our way in."

The other cavalier made no reply, but shrugged his shoulders awkwardly.

"Just remember, you two." The third man in armor commented. "Just keep your visors down and let Lyn or I do the talking. We don't want anyone recognizing you before we reach Lundgren."

"Right, right, Mark. We'll leave it all in your capable hands." Sain's voice floated from the second figure in armor.

The previous day, the tactician had sent Matthew out to spy out the landscape and to swipe several pairs of Caelin-issue armor. Amazingly enough, the blond-haired thief had succeeded and returned with four sets of uniform.

Now, while the rest of the Legion caused a distraction along the eastern front, he and a few others could don the Caelin armor and infiltrate the castle in disguise. With luck, they would be able to make their way entirely through the castle undetected and maintain their element of surprise until they were ready to confront Lundgren.

All of which would hinge heavily upon Kent and Sain's ability to remain incognito, which, theoretically, should be possible as long as either Lyn or Mark handled all confrontation.

_-I just hope that the rest of Lyndis' Legion can hang in there without us.- _Mark thought silently to himself._ -With Kent and Sain gone, they're going to be missing an edge that's served us well so far... maybe I should have honored Florina's request and allowed her to come in Sain's place.-_

That, in and of itself, had been a large surprise to the tactician. Earlier that morning, after the initial assignments for the invasion had been handed out, Mark had been making sure that weapons had been properly distributed and that the Caelin armor was in readiness when he'd had that strange feeling that someone was watching him. He had then whipped around to find out who was spying on her, and in the process had scared the living daylights out of a very nervous Florina.

The tactician was still reeling from the conversation that had followed.

"_Sorry about that." Mark admitted, realizing that Florina had probably been trying to work up the courage to say something. "I didn't mean to startle you."_

"_That's ... ah... alright." The lavender-haired Illian returned in her native dialect. "I... had something that I wanted to... ask you. If... you aren't busy."_

_Curiosity sparked the tactician's interest. He picked up the conversation in the same tongue as the pegasus knight._

"_Of course, go right ahead."_

"_Well... its... about today's raid. Could... that is... I'd like to, need to, go with Lyn. She's my friend, and I want to help her... This is the most important battle that she's ever faced... and I don't want her to do it alone."_

_For a brief moment, Mark was tempted to change his plans to honor Florina's request. He knew that the Sacean and the Illian were fast friends and would probably want each other's support in the coming battles. It was also fairly certain that Florina would probably would feel more relaxed around Lyn and Kent than she would around anyone else. If it weren't for a few different points, then the tactician probably would have agreed with her._

"_I... could..." Mark admitted in Illian. "But I don't think that would be for the best."_

"_... W-why?"_

"_A few reasons: the first is that we're going up against Castle Caelin, Kent and Sain's old home. If I put you in with the infiltration team, then one of them would have to stay behind with the diversionary force... which means that Kent or Sain would end up fighting their old friends and acquaintances. That's something that I'd rather not put anyone through."_

_A small gasp left Florina's throat as she realized what the man was saying. She hadn't considered the fact that this was the cavalier's home- and the struggle that this would have caused them. The pegasus knight couldn't even begin to fathom what she would feel if she had to fight a fellow Illian, but she didn't think that she would enjoy it._

"_Then there's the fact that we're going in with only our weapons and the Caelin armor, no horses or anything such as that. If you go with Lyn, then you'd have to do it alone. Huey would have to stay behind... You're strong, and you're improving every day, but none of us have seen you perform unmounted combat... I'd rather not take that risk if we can do without it."_

_Another realization flooded the Illian's mind. It was one thing to say that you were going to go with Lyn to storm the castle, it would be quite another to try and do that without her pegasus. While she did have some training in ground-oriented combat, Florina had to admit that she found the idea of battling without Huey to be unnerving._

_The tactician continued with a voice of gentle understanding._

"_Florina, I understand that you want to help Lyn; but I believe that this is the best way. By helping Erk and Dorcas draw the castle's attention, you'll be providing us with the opportunity that we need to reach Lundgren and put an end to this madness. You won't be by her side, but you're going to be helping her in a great way. I need you to be strong and do all that you can to buy us the time that we need to get inside."_

"_I... I will, Mark. You're right. I... would do better to help Erk and Dorcas. I'll do everything that I can to slow the army down..."_

"_I know you will, Florina. You've done very well thus far, and I'm sure that you'll do well here."_

At that moment, Lyn's voice broke through the memories and brought her friend back to the present.

"Mark!"

"Huh? Sorry... Last minute planning." The tactician fibbed about the reason that he had lost all sense of the present. He came back to what was truly going on, and realized that they were about to enter the castle.

"I'm glad you're thinking ahead," There was a strange tone in Lyn's voice, betraying the fact that she wasn't altogether serious with her comments. "but we need to stay focused on the current task, alright?"

"Right." Mark agreed.

The tactician reached up and pulled his helmet's slatted faceplate down over to cover his features, obscuring them from view. Kent and Sain followed suite, as did Lyndis.

Now that their identities were hidden, it was safe to proceed. The group moved to the entrance of the castle and slipped inside unchallenged. The four fugitives moved through the castle gates and past the sentries into the castle's main hallway.

No one took a second glance at the group of disguised soldiers- this was something that Lyn counted as a great blessing.

Earlier, Mark had had Kent and Sain provide detailed directions to the throne room, where Lundgren would most certainly be. There was no need for questions or banter as all four continued on their journey. They all knew where they were going and how to get there, there was little else to be said.

The group continued to negotiate the corridors and hallways of the castle. They had almost reached the throne room when everything fell apart.

A hulking, mountain of a man in gleaming silver armor emerged from a nearby room and filled the hallway with his presence. The general crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the quartet of soldiers who were approaching him. The man shook his head in disgust, and then his loud booming voice rocked the castle to its very foundation.

"Kent, Sain, you've got some explaining to do."

Lyn's stomach dropped to the level of her knees. They had hardly started and they'd just been discovered.

* * *

Despite their early success against the Caelin army, the Legion was now in a fair amount of trouble. Dorcas and Florina were both skilled in evading the blows of the Caelin Guard's lances, but they were still two fighters holed up against an army. The cavalry continued to press on through sheer strength of numbers, and forced the Legion to give up precious ground.

Erk was well aware of this. The purple-haired mage was doing his best to ignore the screaming basket-case that was Serra and to calculate their current odds. He didn't like what he was coming up with. They were being pushed back much too fast for his liking.

The mage spun around and unleashed a sphere of fire upon an unsuspecting cavalier. As Dorcas darted forward and pushed the mounted enemy back with a broad axe swing, Erk readied his tome for the next assault.

A loud cry drew the mage's attention. He looked over to discover Florina slumped atop her pegasus- with blood pouring down her uniform. The girl wasn't moving. The winged horse immediately began creating a concerned fuss over his unresponsive rider and accidentally trampled a soldier who came too close. The pegasus then turned and bolted into the skies- taking his lifeless rider with him.

The mage's heart froze_._ He didn't have time to feel anything about the death of one of their comrades- he was too busy running the logistics and realizing that Drocas was now all alone at point, and would soon be in serious trouble.

Something had to be done quickly, or they would all be overrun.

"Lucius!" The purple-haired mage shouted above the din of battle. "At the third count, pour everything that you've got into the rock face just above us!"

The blond monk turned and looked up at the towering cliff-side that bracketed their left flank.

"I understand."

"One!" Erk poured all that remained of his magical stores into one final attack. He brought down a bolt of luminous lightning from the clear, midday sky to crash into the ground just before Dorcas.

"Two!"

The burly axeman jumped backwards as the thunderbolt created a large crater in the center of the narrow pass. The Caelin horses reared in fright as the ground opened up before them.

"Three!" The mage shouted.

Lucius wasted no time in following the order. The monk unleashed blinding daggers of holy light that ripped into the craggy peaks and gouged rock from the wall. Suddenly, a large hole had been created in the side of the vertical mountain.

The inevitable occurred.

A large section of the cliff shattered and collapsed in and upon the two groups of fighters. Stones, rocks and dirt showered down upon the Caelin cavaliers as Lyndis' Legion ran for their lives. The sound of roaring thunder filled the area, brought on by the crashing of boulders.

When the dust settled, the pass had been filled in with the landslide- creating a makeshift wall that now separated the Caelin Guard from the Legion. So great was the barrier that the two sides were now split for the duration of the battle.

For a long moment, no one moved or spoke. They were all too busy being grateful that they were alive, and allowing their scattered heartbeats to settle back into some semblance of normalcy. Slowly, the individual members of the Legion calmed themselves and became rational again.

At length, Lucius looked up at those assembled. He spoke the question that was foremost on everyone's mind.

"What happened to her?"

"Hand Axe." Dorcas admitted with a sorrowful expression.

Understanding and sorrow came over the Legion. Only a few could claim to have known or considered Florina a friend, but her loss was felt almost immediately. They had all banded together and vowed to protect one another, and a loss in battle, no matter how well-known that person was, was a loss to them all. They had overcome so much together, that for one of them to fall here when their victory was so close was... maddening.

This emotion was compounded as Ninian and Nils emerged from their hiding places in the nearby forests. The two teal-haired children slowly approached the remaining survivors of Lyndis' Legion and, in total innocence, asked that fatal question.

"Where's Florina?"

* * *

Kent stared in shock at this huge general who blocked his path. Of all the confrontations that he had expected to have within the confines of Castle Caelin, he had never expected that the first would be with his old, supposedly retired mentor: "General Wallace!"

A satisfied smile passed across the large man's lips. He knew that voice very well, and was pleased to have it confirm his suspicions.

"Ha! So, you thought you could fool your old teacher did you? You should have known better. When a fight's going on _outside_, then it makes no sense for soldiers to run _inside_ does it? Now..." Wallace examined the group with a critical eye. He abruptly turned towards Lyn and, despite the fact that they were all still wearing full Caelin uniform with their faceplates down, continued. "I imagine that she's the Sacean I've heard so much about?"

Instantly, Kent and Sain were standing before their liege with swords drawn. Neither of them had any hope of actually defeating their mentor in armed combat, but they would not go down without a fight.

"If you're working for Lundgren," Sain stared hard at the balding general. "then I'll not let you touch one hair on my Lady Lyndis' head."

"We've acted only on Marquess Hausen's orders to escort the Lady Lyndis to see him. The Lady Lyndis has made no claim to the throne. If you intend her harm, we will not hesitate to defend her." Kent agreed.

Wallace laughed loud and long before replying.

"Ha, you boys have done alright. You're still a bit on the scrawny side, but you've got mettle. Let me see her; and I warn you not to trifle with me on this."

Kent and Sain exchanged a quick look, but neither of them backed down in the face of this order.

Lyn, however, had had enough of this exchange. The Sacean had no clear understanding of what relation her two friends had to this mountain of a man, but she had no desire to see the three go to blows. Something about Wallace struck her as odd, and that gave her hope that he could be trusted.

"Alright, here I am." The plainswoman stepped forward, putting herself before the two cavaliers. With one smooth motion she removed her Caelin helmet and dropped it to the floor- allowing her hair to spill free of its tight confines and her features to be plainly seen.

Wallace studied the Lorcan for several long moments, and then a grand smile passed across his face as his eyes lightened considerably.

"Well, well, looks like I was right after all. Alright, girly, grab your men here and stay close. I'll get you up to Lundgren without a fuss, and once we arrive, we'll gang up on the whelp and teach him a few things."

Lyn was struck speechless. She'd hoped that the general could be reasoned with, but hadn't expected him to change sides so easily. Had he really just offered to help them defeat Lundgren?

"Wh- What?"

"You gotta problem with your ears? I said that I like you, girly and that I'll join you." The bald man explained. "The only reason I agreed to work for Lundgren was because I knew you were coming and had hoped to lend you my strength."

"You did? How?"

"That..." Wallace paused dramatically before visibly deflating. "... I don't really know. Someone slipped this letter under my door a few weeks back, and that explained everything. Here, I figure that this is rightfully yours."

The large man produced a thick sheet of folded paper from within the folds of his cloak and extended it to the plainswoman. Lyn took the offered letter without a word and squinted at it doubtfully.

"Its a letter from your mother to your grandfather that was sent... oh... a little over four months ago. She explains that she had a daughter and wants to introduce the two of you. When I saw that letter and heard that Marquess Hausen had gotten ill at the same time that some supposed Sacean impostor had surfaced... it didn't take much to realize what was going on."

Mark did his best to stifle a gasp. Four months ago? Wasn't that about the time...?

"So you came out of retirement to try and stop Lundgren from within." Kent summarized the exchange.

"Precisely! Now, let's go show Lundgren that no one messes with our Marquess and lives to tell about it!"

Kent and Sain exchanged a sharp look. The two then nodded and turned back to their former teacher.

"Lead the way."

* * *

Florina made two startling realizations. The first was that she was not dead; the second was that everything from her waist up hurt- a lot.

Those were about the only two things that the pegasus knight was able to discern in her present state. The lavender-haired Illian was currently in some sort of bizarre limbo where her brain was fogged and she was only dimly aware of her black surroundings. Eventually, Florina came to realization that her eyes were still closed, and that was probably the cause of her induced blindness.

The Illian knew that it would probably a good idea to actually open her eyes and take a look around, but the effort required to carry out such an action was more than she was willing to exert at the moment. All she really wanted to do was rest.

Gradually, Florina became aware of... voices? Someone else was about?

Under any other circumstance, the lavender-haired pegasus knight might have panicked. But as it was, she just wanted to ignore the intruders and return to the slumber that currently eluded her. Instead, Florina was just forced to lay there and listlessly listen to the banter of the other people who were nearby.

"Y'know... stop meeting like... beginning to talk."

"Matthew! What ... here?"

"Same as you, I ... Uther must really... here too. Hey... to her?"

"... landed in the courtyard... carried her here unobserved..."

"She'll be alright?"

"She should be, as long as ...vulnerary prevents any infection... The blow was messy and deep... no lasting effects"

"That's a relief."

By now, the fog in Florina's mind had thinned to the point that she was beginning to feel curious. Who was Matthew meeting with and what were they talking about? She was tempted to wait and see if she could hear any more of the conversation, but any such decision was swiftly taken from her. Something square and firm jabbed against her wounded shoulder, drawing a cry of surprised pain from her lips.

Instantly, the two voices became hushed and subdued.

"She's waking up, you'd better go... I've got to get back."

"Alright, alright. But when you're done here you're going to drop by this nice little inn I found, they make the best pastries in all of Elibe."

"Oh?"

"Yep, and it'll be my treat. By the way, don't keep that wig. I think your natural color suits you better. Ciao!"

"Wha- Matthew!"

Florina slowly forced her eyes open, and discovered Huey anxiously standing over her. She supposed that the pegasus had pressed against her wound earlier. The lavender-haired Illian then looked about and discovered that she was laying in the middle of a large horse barn, while a black-haired woman in servant's clothing was entering the room through the far doorway.

After a lengthy pause, the Illian decided to ask one simple question.

"Where'd Matthew go?"

Bewilderment passed across the other woman's face. When no answer came, Florina decided to try another tack.

"Where am I?"

The servant girl didn't reply verbally, but instead drew a rough picture of a castle in the air between the two.

"A castle? Caelin? I'm inside Castle Caelin?"

A nod affirmed Florina's suspicion.

The lavender-haired knight tried to sit up, drawing a frightened nicker from Huey, and discovered that her shoulder had been carefully and almost professionally bandaged.

At that moment, memories of all that had transpired came flooding back to the pegasus knight. Florina realized what had happened: how a stray hand axe had torn into her shoulder and how she had blacked out moments afterward. She was quick to realize all that must have occurred during the time she was unconscious.

"Oh... Huey..." Florina twisted about and used her uninjured arm to lay an affectionate pat upon her pegasus. "you saved me, didn't you? Thank you."

Huey neighed in response, but seemed content to know that his rider had survived.

"But... if I'm here..." The Illian's mind switched back to the reason behind their attack on Caelin in the first place. "... where are the others?"

A wide wave from the servant drew the knight's attention, and Florina looked up to find the servant frantically pointing outside. A puzzled expression passed over the pegasus knight's face.

"Y-y... What's wrong? C- can't you tell me?"

The servant shook her head to the negative. She then pointed to her throat, then to her mouth and shook her head again.

"You... can't talk. I'm sorry... I should have realized sooner."

The girl shrugged and then pointed towards Castle Caelin again.

"Wait... you mean that Lyn is still in there?"

A nod confirmed that statement.

"Oh no..." Florina scrambled to her feet, wincing as her injured shoulder screamed in protest. The wound hampered her and slowed her down, but didn't render her immobile.

The lavender-haired Illian was momentarily torn about what to do next. A fairly large part of her wanted nothing more than to just lay back and wait for her wound to heal. Besides, she'd talked to Mark and the tactician had pointed out more than a few reasons why she should avoid entering the castle.

And yet, Lyn was still in battle... could Florina really ignore that? If she were out here and something happened to Lyn inside, then the pegasus knight would probably never really be able to forgive herself.

"I've got to go help them."

The mute servant girl picked up a narrow sword from the barn's floor and handed it to the wounded pegasus knight. She then pointed from herself to Florina and then to the castle. Her intent was clear, she would guide Florina through the castle and escort her to her friends.

* * *

"Lundgren!"

Wallace put all of his impressive build into one powerful kick that sent the throne room doors flying open- and almost off their hinges. The armored titan lumbered inside the central chamber with Kent and Sain flanking him on either side. Lyn (having shed the restrictive Caelin armor) stood right beside the retired general, and held her Mani Katti at the ready. Mark brought up the rear and was watching everything with a critical eye.

The silver-haired monarch turned and looked at the quintet of interlopers through hate-filled eyes. Deftly, Lundgren stood up from the Caelin throne and snatched up his personal lance. He hefted it twice to get a feel for its weight and then flourished it defensively.

"So... you betrayed me, did you Wallace?" Lundgren scowled at the general in question.

"My loyalty has always been to the rightful Marquess of Caelin, Lord Hausen!" Wallace barked back without missing a beat. "You have no authority over me."

"You lying dog, I'll gut you where you stand!" Lundgren seethed before turning his attention to the other two present Cavaliers. "You must be Kent and Sain, I presume. Listen, if you'll swear your allegiance to me, then I will forget your trespasses and accept you into my service."

The two Caelin knights shook their heads in unison.

"I think not!" Sain smirked with his trademark style. "I could never turn my back on a Lady so beautiful as Lyndis, she is certainly much more worthy of my devotion than your foul visage."

"I serve Marquess Hausen and Lady Lyndis, it is my duty and honor." Kent declined the last-second offer. "I would willingly give up my life for them, for they have proven themselves worthy of it."

"You're both fools." Lundgren spat before sweeping his gaze over the rest of those assembled. The aging noble studied those present, and realized that there was a fifth member that he did not recognize. "Wait... who are you?"

The raven-haired tactician's eyes narrowed as he studied the source of his friend's hardships. Words could not describe the emotions that he felt at this particular moment.

"Mark." The shaman admitted.

"Mark, eh? I guess you're a member of this fraud's group too? I'll show you the same generosity- pledge yourself to me and I'll let you live."

The raven-haired man spoke slowly and deliberately as a smile spread across his lips: "No. I will stand by Lyn, just as I always have. I would never work for an... _ena gowet!_"

A full-fledged smile broke out upon Sain's face in the light of that comment. After all that he'd gone through, that insult carried a lot of weight with him. The green knight of Caelin could hardly think of a better recipient.

That brought the conversation full circle, and at long last Lundgren was forced to confront the proverbial elephant in the room. Up to now he had ignored Lyn's presence, hoping to talk one of the others into betraying this Sacean savage. Now he had no hope but to confront her.

"So you're Madelyn's baseborn daughter. Do you have any idea the trouble you've caused my brother? For his sake, I'll cut you down before you can usurp his throne!"

"So... you're still playing this farce." Lyn growled as she raised the Sword of Spirits and held it defensively. "If that is the case, then you will receive no mercy from me. I am Lyn, Wraith of the Lorca, and by this blade, I will save my grandfather!"

With that and a war-cry, the green-haired Sacean tore through space and fired her blade at Lundgren's skull. The aging noble brought his lance up in a tight spin and batted the assault aside, he then tried to take advantage of the maneuver by trying to bring the blunt end of his weapon around to crack it against the Lorcan's skull.

His attack was unsuccessful.

The moment that Lyn had felt the blade jerk in her hand, she had rolled all of her momentum into following the blade's sudden change of course. As a result, she had darted aside as Lundgren struck at empty air. Lyn came out of her dodge and leaped forward to attack again.

Their weapons met in a shower of sparks.

* * *

Florina stifled a low moan and clutched at her injured shoulder. She was doing her best to keep up with the mute servant girl who was guiding her through the castle corridors. The lavender-haired Illian was moving slowly, but surely, after the girl on account of her wound.

The two encountered almost no one on their trip, and those who did appear were quite willing to look the other way. It turned out that Lundgren's hold on the castle wasn't as complete as he would have liked to think, for more than a few soldiers just ignored the pegasus knight's presence... or was that just because this servant girl was with her?

The Illian looked at the sword that had been given to her and wondered just what she had gotten herself into. She knew that Lyn was somewhere within the confines of this castle and was probably confronting Lundgren right this moment. What Florina didn't know was what she could do to help, or even if she could. She wasn't much of a swordswoman, and without Huey, her battle skills were limited... if only she'd had a bow instead. (1) But then... even if she had a bow she probably wouldn't be able to use it with her wound weakening her left shoulder.

Was she even going to be of help, or was she just going to be a hindrance? She didn't know, but she knew that she had to at least do something. Lyn deserved to reunite with her grandfather, and Florina wanted to do everything in her power to make it so.

A large crashing sound echoed down the hallway.

The mute servant girl immediately looked up and down the corridor that had carried the sound. A shocked expression passed across the woman's face before she broke into a run and raced off towards the source of the ruckus.

"What?" Florina scrambled to keep up with her guide's sudden change in direction. "What's going on?"

That question went unanswered for obvious reasons.

The pegasus knight chased after her mute guide, and eventually happened upon the strangest scene she had seen that day.

The corridor ended at two thick oak doors. Standing before the wooden barriers was a muscular man with a large sword and the bearing of a mercenary, who was in the middle of a fight with the silent servant girl. Large gashes and holes had been put into the thick doors, indicating that the mercenary had tried to force his way through them. Whatever was on the other side of that doorway, it was important enough to the servant that she would enter into unarmed combat with the mercenary. The raven-haired girl had both of her hands locked about the mercenary's sword arm in a death-grip and was straining to keep the man's weapon away from her.

Florina's vision blurred over for a few seconds, prompting her to blink several times to clear it. She noticed that her breath was coming in shallow spurts as well, what was happening to her?

The pegasus knight shook her head and tried to refocus on her surroundings. Now wasn't the time to worry about her own affairs, this girl needed help.

The silent servant, Abigail, continued to keep both of her hands locked about the wrist of her opponent's sword arm- and it took all of her strength to keep that lethal blade at bay. The mercenary she had engaged was growling curses and obscenities at her, but the raven-haired girl didn't care. Her entire focus was on keeping this sellsword away from that room.

The two thrashed back and forth from one end of the hallway to the other- upsetting tables and crashing into walls as the mercenary tried to free his weapon and Abigail refused to grant him his wish. The two twisted about as the man sought leverage to wrest his sword free and the woman to keep it captured. It looked like some bizarre dance to the observer.

And then, as abruptly as it started, it ended.

The mercenary looked down to find the tip of a sharp blade protruding from his chest. He then immediately looked over his shoulder to find a gasping, lavender-haired girl standing behind him... with a blade in her hands... a blade that currently speared his torso.

The man, through sheer force and will, spun around and knocked the two women away from him. In one desperate moment he tried to get his weapon up to administer some sort of revenge to the two who had doomed him- but he failed. The mercenary dropped to the ground and lay still.

Florina was panting heavily as she realized what had just happened. She stumbled backwards and dropped against the hallway wall as all of her strength fled her in wake of all that had just occurred.

Then a wave of dizziness hit the pegasus knight like a backhanded slap and her vision blurred over anew.

Something told Florina that she was in trouble.

That something was proven right moments later when the pegasus knight crashed to the ground and the world went black.

* * *

As one, Kent and Sain charged forward and stabbed at Lundgren with their spears, forcing the aging noble to break off his assault on Lyn to bat their attacks away with his own lance. The two cavaliers immediately darted aside, providing Wallace with the opening that he needed to send a large axe crashing against Lundgren's chest.

The silver-haired general grunted as the force of the blow knocked him backwards, but was relieved that his armor held. He would be sporting a bruise and maybe a cracked bone or two after all this was over. However, the blow wouldn't doom him.

Enraged, Lundgren stepped forward and swept his lance's razor-sharp tip about in a tight arc- forcing his attackers to retreat lest they be bisected. A blur of movement then caught the aging general's attention, and he turned just in time to parry an attack from the Sacean.

The Lorcan was rapidly proving to be annoying. Her blows weren't strong enough to be considered a threat to his armor, but she was remarkably fast and agile. Her own attacks were, for the most part, quick and accurate, while his were unable to connect with the girl at all. But then, given their differences technique, all Lundgren needed was one good connection and the savage would be gone.

Lyn continued to dart and weave her way around her opponent as she struck out with every opportunity. Her main concern was to buy Kent and Sain enough time to mount another attack.

The cavaliers did not disappoint.

In a reverse of their original strategy, this time Wallace attacked first. The balding general charged at the nobleman and put all of his might into one long swing of his axe. Lundgren shifted his stance and brought his lance about- the weapon's steel shaft hooked beneath the curve of the axe's handle and halted Wallace's attack.

A grin and a laugh radiated from the bald general. The mighty man had all the leverage he needed to effortlessly twist his axe- pinning the aging monarch's lance between the axe's shaft and hooked blade, and wrest Lundgren's weapon from his grip. The lance was sent spinning across the floor where it clattered against the far wall.

Kent and Sain swept in and lashed out.

The untrained observer might have assumed that the two cavaliers were identical in all of their prowess and style, but that observer would have been wrong. While their styles were closely tied in ability, their fighting styles differed in one fundamental way: Sain tended to put a large amount of power into his attacks while Kent opted for speed and accuracy in his strikes. It was this respective difference in their fighting patterns that served them well here.

Sain powered into Lundgren with so much force that his lance snapped in two upon contacting the nobleman's armor. A wince passed over the monarch's face as he was pushed backwards beneath the assault.

For one critical moment, Lundgren took his eyes off of the battle and wondered if it was possible for him to lose. That one instant was all that Kent needed.

With supreme speed and skill, the red knight of Caelin charged in and expertly planted his spear within his opponent's shoulder. The sharp tip of the weapon burrowed between the armored plating that shielded the noble from harm and stabbed at the flesh beneath.

Lundgren howled in pain and wretched backwards to try and evade any other coming attacks. All he succeeded in doing was providing an angry Lorcan with the prime avenue to attack. Lyn swept in and struck out with the Mani Katti.

The plainswoman's face was the last image that Lundgren ever saw on the earth. He crashed to the ground with a shriek of tormented steel and crash of metal plating. He could feel it, death was nigh.

Where had he gone wrong? He had plotted, schemed and angled to overthrow his brother for so long... and just when he had been ready to strike, this woman had appeared and messed everything up. How had she done it? All of the odds had been in his favor; the distance had been so great, the contracts so much... by rights, she should have died halfway through Bern... and now he was perishing while she would succeed him. It was not right.

A wellspring of hate burst forth in Lundgren's chest to replace the slowing beat of his heart. If only she hadn't lived...

"If... only the Taliver... had done the... job right... I would have... won." The silver-haired usurper rasped.

Immediately, the individual members of Lyndis' Legion stiffened. None of them knew what to make of that statement, but they didn't like the sound of it. Lyn took another look at Lundgren and allowed her eyes to narrow suspiciously.

"What did you say?" The Lorcan demanded an explanation of that statement.

A small amount of satisfaction took root within Lundgren's heart. Yes, this would be his ultimate revenge. Let her live with the knowledge that would torment her for the rest of her life.

"Your people died... because of you." The silver-haired noble's vision began to cloud over- he knew it would not be long now. "I paid them... to... do... it..."

Then Lundgren died.

For a long moment, no one moved or spoke. None of them had expected this sudden revelation, and now they were all scrambling to try and understand it. At length, the plainswoman overcame her sudden shock.

"Mark..." Lyn spoke slowly as she felt tears build at the corners of her vision. "... do... was that... the truth?"

The raven-haired tactician hesitated for a moment, and then admitted to that which he had suspected since the moment he'd seen Wallace's letter.

"I believe so."

"Mother Earth... I... I... did it..."

There was no describing the sense of relief that poured through Lyn- to say that she felt as if a great weight had been removed from her was an understatement. A few weeks ago, she had been bent upon destroying the Taliver and had sworn to destroy those responsible for her tribe's death. Through many revelations and discussions, she had come to realize how foolhardy such a notion had been, and gone back upon a promise made to her Mother Earth to follow through with it. Had her tribe been alive, they would have disowned her for rescinding on a vow that was life-binding. She had given up one wretched state to adopt another.

But now... now she had fulfilled her vow without ever meaning to. The Taliver had killed her people, but the one responsible had been this monster who now lay dead. She had fulfilled both her promise for vengeance and avoided becoming a monster in the process. Now... she was truly free of all her rash decisions.

Since leaving the Terawin, Lyn had tried hard to be strong. She had told herself that strength would be obliterating the Taliver and never crying again over the loss of her kinsmen. But now... she was beginning to understand just how flawed her ideas had been.

"They can rest... Their blood is finally at peace." The Sacean closed her eyes and tried her best to stem the tide of coming tears.

Lyn's eyes jerked open as she felt a gentle hand come down onto her shoulder. She looked up to find Mark standing before her with a face of understanding.

"Its alright, Lyn... you can let it out... you have the right to now."

And she did.

Lyn burrowed her face within the folds of the tactician's green cloak and finally allowed herself to grieve- to truly cry tears of pain. There was no hate or malice twisting her sorrow, but just the pure expression of loss. For the first time, the plainswoman realized just how tangled up she had been inside in bottling up her emotions and using them to feed her desire for revenge. That had not been a wise choice of action, and had merely caused the pain to fester within her. Now that it was finally being released, Lyn was finally beginning to feel some measure of peace about her life- and the possibility for a fresh start. She would never be able to fully move past the destruction of her people, but no longer would it dominate her life so.

She was finally free.

_**End**_

(1) In Marcia's supports with Rolf, she talks about how all Pegasus Knights receive some training and understanding of bows. Granted, its a different universe, but its a point I'll borrow.

Some have asked about the status of this book, and I'm currently noodling it. As you can probably tell, I've been setting things up to explain what happened during that gap between Lyn and Eliwood's stories. I'm not sure whether I'll write that story as a part of _Wraith_ or as a different work. If I do include it in _Wraith_ then this 'book' will extend a little while longer. If not, then it'll wrap up next chapter.

Next: Epilogue


	11. Close

_**Begin**_

Unlike her previous experience, this time Florina snapped awake all at once. One instant she had been soundly unconscious and the next she was sitting bolt upright and breathing heavily.

"It's alright, take it easy... You're safe, there's no need for alarm."

The lavender-haired Illian took a deep breath to calm her scattered nerves. She then looked around to take stock of her surroundings.

The first thing that the pegasus knight noted was that she was inside a small stone bedroom, probably within a castle somewhere. The second was that she was wrapped in layers upon layers of sheets and was resting upon a thick bed. And the third realization was that the Legion's tactician, Mark, was perched atop a stool set next to her bedside.

Florina started to shift her position and immediately made another discovery: her shoulder still hurt from its encounter with an airborne axe. After immediately falling still and allowing the pain to subside, the lavender-haired Illian tried to find the reserves she needed to find out what was going on. At length, she succeeded.

"M... Mark? Wh- where am I?" The lavender-haired Illian took a quick look at the raven-haired man.

Before the tactician could answer, a familiar wyvern darted over to rest upon the man's shoulder. Romeo looked at the injured pegasus knight and unleashed a concerned _squarble._ Mark leveled a restraining hand upon the winged serpent, and then turned to answer the girl's question.

"Castle Caelin." Mark admitted simply.

"The... castle? You mean we won?" Florina's eyes took on a light of hope that their conflict was finally over.

She received a quizzical look in return.

"Yes, Lyn defeated Lundgren and ended the dispute." The tactician nodded as he studied Florina cautiously. "You don't remember that?"

"R- remember? No... I..." Florina broke off to squint into the recesses of her memory. Just what did she remember? "I remember helping Erk on the eastern front... then... um... following some servant girl who couldn't talk... and that's... all..."

The raven-haired shaman nodded slowly and began to fit the pieces of the puzzle together on his own. It didn't take much for him to realize what had happened, and truth be told he really shouldn't have been surprised. He'd have to explain it all for her benefit.

The problem was that so much had been going on behind the scenes that Mark didn't even have a clear picture of all that had gone on over the past few months. As near as he could tell, four months ago Madelyn had sent Hausen a letter explaining that she wanted to reunite and that she had had a daughter. Lundgren had then intercepted the letter, paid off the Taliver to wipe out the Lorcans, and then attempted his coup.

After that, everything got fuzzy.

Someone had then snatched the letter from Lundgren's possession and given it to Wallace. That same person, probably the mysterious Abigail who had vanished after the failed coup, had then kept Hausen alive despite Lundgren's best efforts to kill him. Abigail had then rescued Florina during the raid on Castle Caelin, and helped Florina stop an assassination attempt on the Marquess.

That meant that there had been some other unseen player who had had a hand in the events of what Mark had come to call 'The Dispute'. The fact that someone else had interfered in The Dispute concerned him greatly.

He forced his concern aside and concentrated on what he did know.

"I see. I guess I should have expected as much considering how severe your fever was." Seeing the pegasus knight's surprised expression, Mark hastened to explain. "When you were helping Erk and Dorcas hold the eastern front, someone pegged you with a hand axe."

Florina winced as those words made her more aware of her wound. She paused to massage it gently, and then returned her attention to the explanation being given.

"The person who hit you was not a Caelin Cavalryman, but a hired mercenary. He'd drenched that axe with poison before the battle- that's why you blacked out and don't remember any of this. But after you fell unconscious, Huey bolted and carried you to Castle Caelin.

"Someone, we don't know precisely who, helped you out, neutralized some of the poison and bandaged that wound. You then infiltrated the castle and prevented a hired blade from murdering Marquess Hausen."

"I did all that?" Florina seemed dumbstruck at the story of events. "I... I don't remember any of it."

"We're not entirely sure about the facts ourselves, but its what I believe happened. After that, you blacked out again. Sain found you a little later and we all began working to get you patched up... you've been asleep since, fighting the poison and a fever."

"I... I don't know what to say. I can't remember a thing..." The pegasus knight shook her head in disappointment. "H-how long was I asleep?"

"Most of the afternoon, really."

Florina's eyes widened in shock as she looked out of the room's window and saw it to be pitch black. She was started as she realized just how long she had been unconscious. She started to try and get up, but was forced back by the pain that her wound caused her.

"Easy, don't push yourself." Mark held up a hand, palm open and out, to caution the pegasus knight. "Serra doesn't think that there'll be any permanent damage, but she did tell me to tell you to take it slow."

"Oh... o-okay..." The lavender-haired knight allowed herself to drop back to the bed wearily. A moment later, the tactician's comments prompted a twinge of curiosity. "Speaking of Serra... where is everyone?"

A slow grin spread over Mark's face.

"Well, most of us are still around. Serra and Erk are planning to spend a few days here and then continue their journey to Ostia- Dorcas is planning on traveling with them. Lucius vanished after they retreated from the eastern confrontation. He said that he had to meet someone and wished us well. Wil is lobbying for a job in the military. Sain's somewhere about the place and Kent's keeping his vigil over Marquess Hausen. Ninian and Nils left shortly after we took the castle. And Lyn, well... she's been dividing her attention between you and her grandfather."

"Ah... I see... that sounds... good." Florina admitted with a weak smile.

The tactician nodded and settled back on his stool. At length, he spoke again.

"Hopefully it will be... hopefully it will be.

"Now, you need to get some rest; I'm sure that you're going to need it for the days ahead."

* * *

Serra packed up her Restore and Healing Staves, wished her companions well in typical banshee and untactful fashion ("Hope he doesn't die on you!"). And then left the room.

Lyn watched the healer go and then closed the door after her. She then turned and looked back towards the bed that held her sleeping grandfather. The elderly man had been unconscious since they had discovered him earlier that afternoon. Serra had done her best to heal the Marquess, but she had admitted that the damage was too widespread for her to completely reverse it. Lyn had tried to stay by her grandfather's side throughout the day- breaking away only to check on Florina.

Kent stood at a respectful distance, keeping a silent watch over his Lady and his Marquess.

The Lorcan sat atop a stool that had been placed alongside Hausen's bed, and studied her grandfather for the hundredth time that day. It was plain to see that he was, indeed, her grandfather- the resemblance was buried beneath years of worry, guilt and age, but it was there. Now all she needed to do was wait and actually talk to him.

But quite frankly, Lyn was also a touch hesitant about talking to her grandfather. The two were related, but complete strangers to each other. They had a brand new relationship to build... how were they to go about doing so? They came from different worlds with different viewpoints; was there even a foundation that they could build upon?

She didn't know, but only time would actually tell.

A slight moan drew the Sacean's attention. Lyn immediately turned her attention to the Marquess Hausen and waited to see what would happen.

The elderly man coughed, sputtered, and then slowly woke. Hausen's eyes parted, allowing him to look out upon the rest of the world. Hausen squinted, then blinked, and finally managed to bring the rest of the world into focus.

"M-Madelyn?" The man squinted at the face that hovered just inside his line of sight. Realization then flooded the man's features. "N-no... Lyndis!?"

"Grandfather!" Lyn felt tears threaten to break from her eyes. "I'm here."

After a momentary struggle, Hausen managed to weakly extend his hand. The elder managed to lay it on top Lyn's open palm and seemed to draw comfort from that simple action.

"They... told me you were dead. I... almost gave up." Hausen rasped in a voice that told everyone he was still in a fair amount of pain. "But... I'm glad that... I didn't."

"I am too. There's so much we have... to talk about, to learn about each other. I'm glad that I found you."

"I am as well." Hausen smiled.

So was Lyn.

* * *

The next few days passed quickly as life in Castle Caelin settled into some pattern of normalcy. But that monotony was lost when a select few of Lyndis Legion decided that it was time for them to move on.

"I can't thank you all enough for what you've done." Mark looked over those who were preparing to leave Castle Caelin. "You've all gone above and beyond any requirements or duty that you might have owed us and we'd never have made it this far without your sacrifice."

Serra turned away from the blazing dawn sun and focused her attention back upon the raven-haired tactician and that annoying squawk-box that passed itself off as a wyvern. Erk and Dorcas stood alongside her and wwe patiently waiting for the decision to move out.

"I know." Serra admitted bluntly. "Just remember that, because the way I figure you really owe us after all that you put us through. I'm sure that they'll be something that you can do to repay us sometime in the future. Right, Erky?"

The purple-haired mage's expression changed from one of passive acceptance to a scowl of frustration.

"... Probably."

The tactician smirked at the two and wondered just how long they could tolerate each other before they came to blows. Mark then shifted his attention to Dorcas and posed a question that had been on his mind for some time.

"Are you sure that you want to leave? I'm sure that Kent or Sain would hire you for the castle and get you some decent income."

Dorcas nodded slowly and explained his reasoning.

"I am no soldier, I have no love of war. There is work in Ostia and Pharae... I will find it."

"Point." Mark admitted. "Well, be safe. I want to see you alive the next time I come through Bern."

"I will."

The quartet exchanged farewells and waves, and then separated into a trio and a solo member. Dorcas, Erk and Serra turned and began their journey down the road that would take the Ostia.

Mark watched them go and felt a familiar yearning open up in the pit of his stomach. He envied them, and hoped that it wouldn't be long before he joined them in leaving castle Caelin and striking out on his own.

The tactician turned and began heading back towards the castle. He abruptly stopped short as a familiar figure in green armor appeared in the doorway. The two looked the other over as Mark wondered what had brought Sain here. If it had torn the green knight of Caelin from some woman's side, then it had to have been serious.

"Sain," The raven-haired shaman gave voice to his thoughts. "What brings you here?"

"... You did." Sain replied with false mirth that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Mark noticed the knight's tight, military, bearing and immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up- this was closely followed by a sense of unease. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd seen Sain actually... attempting to look official.

"What's on your mind?"

"Marquess Hausen and Lady Lyndis have been impressed by your bookkeeping, logistical and tactical abilities. I, as their faithful retainer, have been authorized to offer you a position among the Caelin Guard- that of a staff sergeant for the Caelin Cavalry."

The tactician frowned at that news.

Mark had never considered himself to be a selfish person (who would honestly consider themselves selfish?). But at that moment, he was consumed with what he could only call selfishness. He had originally allowed Lyn to join him out of pity (contrary to what many seemed to believe, he had not allowed her to come because he was infatuated with her- he was almost ten years older than her for Elimine's sake!). Somehow, that had snowballed into him caring for an entire unit of soldiers and playing counselor to a select few. It had been trying, but rewarding.

The problem was, however, that the raven-haired tactician didn't care for this military life. He was content (selfish?) enough to just roam the continent and live off of the land. A large part of him wanted to return to that life and leave all this political and strategical philandering to those better suited for it- the rest of him wanted to just stay and begin to establish some roots. A certain Lorcan and Illian had gotten past his defenses and created some sort of semi-familial friendship with him. His hesitancy didn't stem because he didn't care for Lyn and Florina, it was just that he wasn't a military man.

Now that Lundgren had been defeated and Lyn reunited with Hausen, Mark found himself at a crossroads. He could very well leave now that Lyn was on a safe path, but he could also stay and begin a new life.

Mark stared off into the distant horizon and felt his mind begin to mull over the facts as they were and his possible responses. At length, he came to a form of a decision.

"I'm afraid that I have to decline." The tactician admitted.

Sain allowed himself a raised eyebrow.

"You... can't? Pardon my asking, but... why?"

"I'm sorry, Sain, but I have my reasons... Please extend my gratitude to Marquess Hausen for the offer, but I will have to decline."

The sandy-haired knight studied the tactician for several long moments and then then slowly took a step backwards. Sain turned and started to reenter the castle. He paused in the doorway and then turned his attention back to his companion.

"I will delay delivering your answer for the moment, Mark, because I think that you should know that the offer did not originate from Marquess Hausen but from Lady Lyndis."

Mark whipped about and fired a look at the green knight as Sain vanished through the doorway.

* * *

At length, Florina's strength returned to the point that she was able to leave her room. Shortly thereafter a summons had been received from the recovering Marquess Hausen indicating that he wished to meet with the Pegasus Knight as soon as possible.

The news had both excited and bewildered the Pegasus Knight. Why would the Marquess Hausen want to see her? She was a simple mercenary, who should have been beneath everyone's notice. So what had drawn Hausen's attention to her?

Unfortunately, no answers would be found in her room. Florina had risen, squeezed into a spare uniform and, upon notifying Kent, proceeded to head towards the prearranged meeting.

The lavender-haired Illian met up with the red knight of Caelin outside of the marquess' room. After exchanging pleasantries, the two moved to begin the audience. It might have been Florina's imagination, but she thought that Kent seemed much more distant than he normally was. There wasn't much that she could do about that at this moment, right now she had to concentrate on the main point of this audience.

The two entered the Marquess' chambers where Florina caught her first sight of Lyn's grandfather. She was a touch surprised to find him to be older and frailer than she had imagined. With all the talk of nobility Florina had come to expect some sort of wizened, benevolent ruler, not the weak man who now sat unsteadily before her with Lyn at his side. Then she remembered the rumor that Lundgren had been poisoning Hausen and realized why the man was so feeble.

"Dame Florina?" Hausen's voice was stronger than the Pegasus Knight had expected it to be.

"Yes, milord." Florina felt her heart constrict a little. She was about to find out why she had been brought her in the first place.

"It appears that... I am deeply in your debt. Evidently..." The elderly man paused for breath and drew a fresh round of strength from the comforting hand that Lyn placed on his shoulder. "... you are responsible for directly saving my life."

"I... I merely did... what anyone would do." Florina hesitated over her reply. What was she supposed to say? What was anyone supposed to say in this situation? "I-I couldn't let Ly- er, the Lady Lyndis down. She desired to see you, and I did what I needed to to insure that that would happen."

"I see... and for that I'm grateful, but that does not change the fact that you, though injured, fought for us. Dame Florina, someone with your strength and loyalty would be of great blessing to us. I would like to hire you as a member of the Caelin Royal Guard... I pray that you will accept it."

For one brief, joyous, moment, Florina's heart was dislodged into her throat, rendering her unable to speak, as joy flooded her chest. She had enjoyed working with the Legion and was saddened to have seen it come to an end, to have to move past the few friends she'd gained. But now she was being given the opportunity to stay close to those that she cared for, to be near Kent, Sain and Lyn, and to pay for her own way. No longer would she be dependent upon others, but would be able to supply for herself and be in a position to help them now.

Finally, the Illian found the words to match her emotions.

"I- I would be honored! I'll do everything in my power to aid you and Ly- Lady Lyndis!" Florina was beaming so brightly that it was almost impossible for her to speak correctly.

Hausen smiled.

"I know that you will."

* * *

Without warning, the bedroom door flew open, allowing a ball of lavender hair and nervous energy to come bounding into the room.

"Mark! Mark!"

The raven-haired tactician paused in his current task as he heard Florina's voice calling to him. As he turned to face his shy companion, Mark came to the realization that there was something different in her voice. It wasn't as quiet or shy as it normally was- instead it was loud and clear.

"Florina." Mark acknowledged the pegasus knight and felt a grin threaten to spill across his cheeks. Her enthusiasm was infectious. "I take it that you're well now?"

"Huh...? Oh... yeah." Florina was momentarily sidetracked by that question about her health but recovered quickly enough. "I hardly feel any pain at all... Mark! Marquess Hausen has hired me, I'm to be employed by the Castle Caelin!"

The tactician's enthusiasm lagged at that news, even as Romeo, from his perch on his master's shoulder, screeched in excitement. He couldn't blame Florina for being overjoyed, this was a big opportunity for her, but the news brought Mark back to his own crisis and that was something that he was struggling to come to terms with.

"That's great." Mark forced his thoughts aside and felt a dash of cheerfulness return to his outlook. "You've really done well, Florina... you have a right to be proud."

"Thanks, Mark... I just... I never could have gotten this far without your help. I... thank you."

"Don't give me all the credit. You did the work and you earned this position... I didn't have as much to do with it as you seem to think... I.. you did more than I." Mark flushed. Why did people seem to think that he was responsible for everything that happened?

"But you... alright. But still... thank you..." Florina felt her momentum sag and decided to just abandon this current topic. Mark had helped her and allowed her to become strong enough to earn such a position, but she wasn't going to argue the point at the moment. She was still too excited over her new offer and promotion.

"You're... welcome. I'm glad for you... I can't think of anyone who deserves it more. This would mean that you get to stay with Lyn and the Legion, wouldn't it? That's a great turn of luck."

"I know, and I'm so happy that we all get to stay together."

Florina unleashed a large smile, which slowly turned into a small grin as her euphoria siphoned away. She was just realizing how far outside of her comfort zone she had traveled in the heat of the moment, and was beginning to flounder as reality caught up with her.

Mark, noticing this, decided that it was time to try and return to much safer waters. The only problem was that he had no idea how.

"Well... I'm sure that this work out for everyone's benefit."

"Yes... um... it should." Florina's eyes broke away from Mark as she began to fidget nervously. Why had she come running in here in the first place? "I... um... should be going...

The pegasus knight's break in eye contact had one unfortunate circumstance. It brought the Illian's focus away from the tactician and to the bundles that he had been working with. Florina felt her stomach drop to the level of her knees as she realized what the shaman had been working on.

A small 'oh' emerged from the pegasus knight's lips as her eyes fell upon the half-full pack and evidence that Mark had been packing. Whatever happiness remained from her job offer had all but evaporated now. Of all the Legion, barring Lyn, Florina felt closer to Mark than to anyone else. The tactician had always looked out for her, encouraged her, and stood by her when things looked bad. When she had been accused of Carjiga's death, Mark had defended her and practically proven her innocence. She didn't know how she would have continued if she'd continued to think herself guilty.

Somehow, in some way, Florina had just come to expect Mark to always be there for the Legion, for Lyn... for herself. The tactician had never mentioned anything about leaving after Lundgren was defeated (although to be fair, he'd never said anything about his plans), but Florina's assumptions that he would remain had just been proven to be way off base.

The tactician turned and glared at his work as if it were a traitor for revealing his actions.

Florina turned and hurried from the room.

Mark started to move after her, then paused. What good would that do? If he didn't have any answers about his own future, then how could he handle explaining them to someone else? He had never expected Florina's reaction to his decision to leave to affect him so, or to cause this rolling knot he now experienced down in his stomach.

The tactician closed his eyes to hide the tears and tried to take refuge in his temporary blindness. During the span of a few short weeks, he had come to care for all of the Legion. Could he really just pack up and leave now as if they meant nothing? But... if he stayed... how would he reconcile being a staff officer and reporting to, and using his abilities for, someone else? He didn't care for conflict and did not want to partake in it more than was necessary. Should he enter the military, then his decisions about what engagements to take part in would be removed... and that was not something that Mark thought he could live with.

That fact further frustrated him. Now, more than ever, he didn't want to leave Castle Caelin, but what choice did he have? He couldn't enter the military, which was probably the only way he could remain. He was no mercenary-

Inspiration struck, and all at once Mark discovered the solution that would resolve his dilemma.

The tactician opened his eyes and smiled softly.

"Alright, Florina." He spoke to the empty room. "I'll stay as long as I'm able."

Mark struck out for his doorway and began to work on the task of tracking down a certain lavender-haired pegasus knight. He knew that he'd have some explaining to do, but he believed that he was more than up to the task.

* * *

_And that was how it all started. Little did I know that this was just the beginning, and that helping Lyn reach Caelin would look simple compared to the other trials that we would endure. But that adventure was an important step for all of us, because it taught us the fundamentals of combat and how to survive a war. Without that journey, none of us would have survived the Black Fang Campaigns._

_Please, take that lesson to heart. Every trial, no matter how small, will only strengthen you for what lies ahead. Learn from these adventures and remember their lessons. The small skirmishes will teach you what you need to fight a larger war._

_I apologize that I couldn't teach you these things in person; I just pray that you'll understand and find it in your heart to forgive me, my daughter._

With those words heavy in his heart, Mark penned his final words in the book and slowly closed it. He turned the volume over, and wrote, with steady hand, a title across the front cover. The tactician then sat back and stared at the newly christened tome with hesitant sorrow.

The words written across the cover, in his own pen, stared back at him mercilessly: _Wraith of the Lorca: The Legend of Lyndis._

_**-Fin-**_

A.N.: Well, there you have it. _Wraith_ is officially concluded. I hope that I didn't put anyone off too much with this chapter, I haven't written a tactician-centric piece of _Wraith_ up 'till now; Mark's decision to stay within Castle Caelin instead of leaving right away was an important event that's going to have repercussions all the way to my AU take on FE6: _Sacean Saber_. (And yes, he is eventually going to get hitched, just not to a canon character.)

I've spent a lot of time mulling over what to say now that what has undoubtedly become my most successful work has ended. And quite frankly, I need to begin with an apology.

I ask the forgiveness of everyone who has read this story. Human beings are frail things and prone to fault. I have to admit that my initial success with _Wraith_ caused my head to swell and for a bit of an ego to develop for a chapter or two. This caused me to become defensive and snap at a few people who honestly meant to help me with some problems I was having. If I have done that to you, then I apologize and sincerely ask for your forgiveness. I have no justification for my actions, and was entirely in the wrong. I also want to thank those who took the time to deflate my ego and to bring me back to the humility that I should have had all along.

But, on another note, I do want to thank everyone who has ever reviewed this story or gotten their comments to me. I have never had any written story receive as much feedback as _Wraith_ has and I do want everyone to know that I appreciate every bit of it and thank you all for providing it.

That said, I do want to extend a most grateful thanks to one particular member of FF(dot)net. Back when _Wraith_ first started, **Kitten Kisses** took a lot of time and energy to provide me with a massive and in-depth look at many different characters from FE7 and helped me immensely with my characterization and understanding of them. Without that valuable input, _Wraith_ would not have been what it was. Thank you.

So here's to one finished book and I hope to see you all in the coming side-story and later sequel.

Wing and a Prayer,

SoloWing.


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